Teenage Wasteland
by RestartingInsanity
Summary: The Hunger Games are a means of controlling the districts, but what happens when a certain 2nd District Career sees through it? How does this spark a rebellion, and by who's hand the Capitol or Katniss? Are Cato and Katniss really so different? How does this change the Hunger Games? Too many questions. Cato/Katniss.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Teenage Wasteland

Pairing: Cato/Katniss

Rating: T-M

Summary: The Hunger Games are a means of controlling the districts, to keep them from trusting one another enough to lead a rebellion, but what happens when a certain 2nd District Career sees through it? Are Cato and Katniss really so different? How does this change the Hunger Games? Cato/Katniss

Warnings: Hunger Games setting with a spin, Violence, Language, Mild Sexual Content, Character Death, Slight altered reality, and other things I can't think of at the moment. If anything triggery I will post a warning beforehand. First Person

Notes: I've never read Hunger Games fanfiction, but this idea came to me while listening to this particular son by **The Who**, and it wouldn't leave. I figure if there are any Cato/Katniss fans they might like something new. I bet its a rather small crowd all things considering, but I find Cato and all of District 2 so fascinating. All errors are my own as I'm still treading the waters of the new fandom. I will do my best to keep them in character. I have an outline for the story, and four chapters already written.

_**Chapter One:**_

_**Born Killers**_

_**Cato:**_

My eyes are trained to spot the signs. I was born for this, I lived and breathed it. I didn't do it for the pleasure that appears on the surface. I didn't do it for the glistening gleam of crimson on silver. _No_ – I did it because I know if I didn't agree the three little ones in my life would have to face it.

I'm a big brother, and my training is all that keeps me from crying out in frustration. To keep winning, not for honor, not for dignity, but for them. The three smiling faces that survive on my districts favoritism of the Capitol.

I try not to shudder when the artificial blonde comes over to rest her glistening palm on my forearm. Its a game, I was told to play it. I was trained to play it, maybe I'm brainwashed, but I can't escape this feeling of something burning deep inside of me.

I know what it is, my eyes are drawn just like everyone else in the crowd. I can hardly hear what the blonde girl is saying because my eyes are on a pair of panting red lips, sky grey eyes fluttering closed as if she couldn't believe what she had been forced to do.

I see it then as she quickly drops the hand of the boy next to her.

A facade. Everyone has one, and its how they survive or not in some cases. I see a tall dark skinned man - her stylist so unlike ours rush over to her and remove her headdress. I saw her during the Reaping. I watched it with Clove who sneered the whole time.

"How pathetic? She's just going to die now! No family is worth that!" I decide not to tell her that we are all going to die. Maybe she doesn't care, and just enjoys the games. I can already see it in my female mentor. Despite her ruthless gaze and sharp teeth, I can tell she has been used by the Capitol.

Despite the wealth of the 2nd District, we are not absconded from slavery. We are sugarcoated, but every Tribute has a role. Her role is the most devastating.

Clove is one of those who are ruthless, and a little unhinged.

My attention is completely taken by the female Tribute at the back of the pack. I see her as me, protecting what little she has. There's something different about her than the others in the crowd, and the many District 12 Tributes I have seen. Most of them are weak and worn, underfed and sickly. Some rarely ever make it being so poor, but this girl has a keen glint in her eyes.

A glint only those born into the life can recognize, which surprises me as Clove doesn't seem to notice it. Too caught up with her own jealousy to see beyond, but I see beyond.

I see the look of a natural born killer.

She is a predator.

I am her prey.

She is my prey.

I am her predator.

She's like a panther, the way she moves in that damning black unitard.

A shiver runs down my back as her eyes focus on me. Her pretty face devoid of emotion, and instantly I think, _'I want her.'_

But that's impossible. I can't want her, unless its on the end of my sword. Still, my eyes never leave her, and she's looking at me.

I give her a smirk, and then she cocks one of her well crafted eyebrows as if in question. _Yes_, she is definitely one of them.

She can talk without words. I like that.

Too bad I have to kill her.

"I bet they slice like butter inside," Clove says to me in a dark purr. It really doesn't become her, and I look at her with a cock of my brow.

"You must not have been trained as well as I would have thought." She is infuriated instantly as I turn, and rip off the ridiculous headdress my stylist put me in. Some Roman getup, whatever the hell that meant.

What an _idiot_.

Its the next day, and I can't help but keep one eye across the other room where the girl from District 12 is stationed at the knot tying area. She has finally separated from her twin, and I can tell she seems mildly relieved.

From my position, she seems adequate. Clove is playing with her knives, and the girl from District 1 – Glimmer I think her name is seems to be having trouble with the bow.

It's then that I catch sight of it, a tell that the other Tributes don't seem to notice at all. A smirk on the girl from 12's face as she stares at Glimmer, and I once again understand without words. She is kind of an open book for the trained eye.

Her choice of weapon is the bow, but she's staying clear of it. I should tell Clove, but I don't. I don't know why, we are supposed to learn something about the other tributes while here, but instead I find myself moving before I can stop. Lucky for me everyone seems preoccupied, and they don't seem to notice my intent yet.

The small dark haired girl stiffens, and straightens immediately, and her eyes settle on me. I have to fight down a classic shiver because it most definitely is on fire.

"Girl on Fire," I can't help but say.

"Man in a dress," she says back, and that should piss me off, but instead it makes me smirk.

"Too bad I didn't get your stylist."

She doesn't smile, but I can see a tiny shred of playfulness in her eyes as she speaks to me with confidence. "I'd kill you first."

I can only grin at the perfect retort. "I bet you would." I lean closer, and take a look at her knot. "You should play with the archery station, show Glimmer a thing or two."

The girl's brows knit together as the wrinkle between them becomes pronounced. She looks cute, but I don't dare say that or reveal on my face that I think this. It could get me killed.

She is surprised by this as she looks over to see Glimmer struggling with the string of the bow. "What would I know?" But I see her eyes, the laughing that they are doing.

"Liar."

"Glimmer huh? What strange names..."

"As if Katniss is any better."

"Least I'll never go hungry finding myself," she says logically, and I can't help but chuckle quietly. She has spunk, no wonder her stylist made her a girl on fire.

I began to tie a few knots as well considering attention was starting to be drawn to us, my laughing probably. Clove is glowering at us, but I pay no mind. Out of the corner of my eyes I see a little girl, and I tense up, but I notice she's watching Katniss.

"You've got a shadow," I murmur too low for others to hear. As soon as Katniss turns, I see a flash of pain in her eyes, and quickly she goes back to her knot, and screws it up. Her mouth spreads into a thin line.

"Children..." Katniss can't help but whisper. I see the flame mixed with a pain from the Reaping.

"That was your sister called, huh?"

"I swear the Capitol does it on purpose. What are the odds? Two twelve year olds from outlying districts?" Katniss hissed ferociously. "My sisters was only one sheet of paper..." she realizes what she said, and went quiet, going back to the knot, and restarting.

"Nothing is coincidence, Fire Girl." I've been trained all my life not to give a shit, but they couldn't completely break my spirit because I do have three siblings – three that depend on me to get back home, and to give them the rewards that being a Victor will provide. "We all have our reasons."

"Glory, huh?"

"Maybe," I say. I shouldn't say much, I have been told not to, but maybe for once I am tired of being told to do something. Maybe that's why I keep talking to her, keep seeking her out. She knows, and she can understand. Its a weakness I can't afford to have, but thinking about my three little sisters all at home, I can't help it. I lean in close, aware of a soft pine scent coming from the girl. Katniss' eyes widen as I get closer, and now I can see every small invisible line in her face. Her fear, her strength, and I see her as human.

Now I know why I was ordered not to let emotions get in my way, but now that I'm here I have to finish. "Some of us, even the more wealthy districts don't have it as well as you may think."

"Sure... _Careers_."

I'm a little irritated by her tone of voice, but I can hardly blame her. We are the most hated and most feared. We kill more Tributes in the first five minutes of the games than anyone. I expect hostility, and I shouldn't have to explain myself, but I feel exposed with this small intelligent girl, and I want to explain. No, not want. I have to. "Do you know how Careers are made?"

"Not sure I want to know."

"Usually happens at birth, a poorer family has too many children, offer one up to be trained, and in return they are fed, housed, and taken care of better than the others. They are comfortable, until the Tribute dies, and then they are thrown out of that life, and back into starvation or worse." I shouldn't say more, but my mouth is moving before I can stop myself. My heart is pounding, and I see Katniss' head raise, horror in her face. She understands. She understands well.

"Why are you telling me this?"

I shrug. "Shouldn't."

Katniss frowns. "I hope this isn't a ploy or a strategy – hitting all my buttons."

"I don't think I'm that smart."

"... don't doubt yourself," she says after a second. She looks at my knot. "_Here_ – you need to use your thumb, wrap it like this – and then underneath..."

"Girl knows her knots." I follow her lead, I never really trained in something so mundane. It was pointless I was told, but I can bet that nothing this girl does is pointless. "Kill mine, I kill yours?" I find myself saying before I can stop. Katniss freezes, and glowers at me darkly. I smirk at her. "I can make it painless."

For one brief moment I see that she wants to make the agreement, but I can also see that her moral code won't let her.

I'm done with the station, anymore lingering and people are going to start something that shouldn't be. So I let go of the knots, and as I pass, I whisper, "I hear they leave the training center open even at night. Its against the rules, but sometimes a Tribute will come down to really train. I think the Gamemakers do that in hopes of allies and enemies from the beginning." I smirk as her back stiffens, and I disappear completely over to the spears where they are gleaming and waiting for my experienced hands.

I don't know how to feel about our conversation as I start chucking them at the moving dummies, slicing one in half, and using the other to spear its neck. I never miss. I revealed a lot, and too much.

Marvel is smirking at me. "I guess trash can be hot, no matter where it comes from." The look on his face was nauseating, and I can imagine some of the ideas floating around his head.

I say nothing as I throw the spear harder, and it completely skewers one of the dummies in half. Marvel reminds me of my fellow trainees in District 2. Some are so over the top that they are practically inhuman.

She might not even believe me, and I don't blame her. I wasn't doing it to weaken her – no because that's foolish. If anything, a story like that would only make her stronger. She had everything to gain while I had nothing.

Clove is on my heels now. "What the hell was that, Cato?"

"None of your damn business," I snap, and aggressively shoot a spear until it gets lodged into the padding of the walls. I glare at it hatefully, my emotions rising and swirling to the top.

"Why are you talking to that pathetic hag?"

"Jealous?" I can't help but sneer. "She is a catch..."

Clove sneers. "Please... disgusting pig is what I call it."

"She's not the one about to come out of her training pants now is she?" I look down at her stomach. Marvel is now snickering silently behind her. She's got about fifty to a hundred pounds on Katniss. Clove has already made comments about Glimmer, but I found Glimmer fake and not at all pleasing to the eye. I bet she's deadly if given a chance.

In that moment, Clove looks like she is about to kill me on the spot. I smirk. "Try it, and you'll be dead weight before you know it."

You see, I have this problem because I'm not supposed to have emotions, but I do have them. Being trained like I was has twisted me – I know this. Its all I've known, killing. The Hunger Games will not be my first kills, I've already had them.

That's what makes us dangerous.

Born Killers.

What else can we be?

**Katniss**

I did my best to ignore the dark look that Glimmer and Peeta kept shooting me over lunch. Of course, Peeta said nothing, keeping up the pretense that we were happy, but I could see the smoldering look in his eyes. I don't know what Haymitch is thinking having us appear amiable, but I don't like it.

It only makes it harder in the end.

I had a hard time keeping conversation like Effie and Haymitch had ordered from us as I continued taking bites of a crescent shaped piece of bread with black seeds in it. According to Peeta it was the bread from District 11.

It didn't taste much different than our own drop biscuits at home except for the seeds.

"Poppy seeds," Peeta answered seeing the question on my face.

"Huh." They tasted really good. Then again everything I eat tastes good. I would never waste anything knowing that there are people out there in the Seam starving to death or struggling in the mines to make a few coins after a twelve hour shift just for some grain.

The Career Table was loud and rowdy, and it reminded me of the setup back home at school with the popular crowd. Peeta was always one of the popular students.

I tried to block it out, but I couldn't help but remember Cato from this morning. I couldn't get my mind wrapped around the fact that what he had told me was real. I'm sure it was a ploy to weaken me for the games. He must have thought that my devotion and loyalty to my baby sister was a weakness he could pinpoint, make me less likely to kill him.

…

I don't know. And the fact that he seemed to pick up on the fact that I liked the bow. How could he possibly know that? He insisted that he wasn't that smart, but I'm not fooled. I refused to look at him as I continue to ponder our conversation.

If I'm being honest, and I listen to my instincts they tell me that what he says is the truth. Why did he tell me of all people? I don't get it. Why would he even approach me. I couldn't possibly join the Careers. They had an agenda that was far more vicious than I could even dream. However, I won't deny that my conversation with Cato reminded me very vaguely of the conversations with Gale my best friend and hunting partner.

Now, I'm confused even more, and it angers me. I eat as much as my stomach will allow before I deny anymore that Peeta tries to send my way. I'm frustrated and confused, angry and a little sad. I don't want to feel sympathy for these people.

They are all my enemy right? Even Peeta, I have to kill him. Maybe I should have taken Cato up on his offer to kill Peeta for me, and in return I kill his partner. I glance out of the corner of my eye to see the brutish girl. She's playing with her knife, turning it over in her hand, and keeps observing the other tributes like they are a piece of meat.

If I had a bow, I could shoot before she could throw. I know I could. I glance at Peeta briefly. Can I really kill him? This boy who saved my life – who reminded me that my life is worth living?

I don't have long to live, but I can't help but wondering if I could get through these games or at least far enough to do myself proud, I could die happy. Gale promised to take care of Prim and my mother, and I know he will make good on his promises.

I think about Haymitch, and I wonder if I could ask him to take care of Prim. If I could get that promise then I could die happy.

I rose from the lunch table. "Where you going?" Peeta asked, and I tried not to twitch at the irritation of being forced to tell anyone where and what I was doing.

"I need to talk to Haymitch," I said cleaning my plate out so the Avoxes didn't have to. They already have it hard enough. Seeing that little redhead from my past reminds me just how insignificant I really am. There's no fighting the system because in the end we all wind up worse off.

"I can come with -"

"No need, this is something personal." I took off before he could stop me.

Haymitch as usual is sitting at the bar, nursing a large scotch. He stared at me for a moment. "What's my sweetheart doing?" he asked kicking the chair out for me.

I sit down, and turn to him. I brace myself. "I never mentioned it, but its likely I'm not going home." Haymitch's features darken, but he doesn't agree or disagree. "But – there is only one way I can rest easy. I know we've asked a lot from you, but I'm asking one more thing..." I trailed off as I tried to get my breathing under control.

Haymitch arched an eyebrow. "You have nothing to ask. I've already made plans sweetheart. I'll look after your sister and mother for you." An immense weight has been taken off my shoulders. "Perhaps, if you can go into that arena knowing that she will be taken care of – maybe – maybe it'll give you something worth fighting for to get you home, alive."

I smile, and though we have always had a rocky relationship, I can't help but kiss his cheek in thanks. "Thank you, Haymitch. I know Gale will do it, but he has his own family. I – I just can't trust my mother."

Haymitch took a swallow of alcohol. "I heard an earful from Peeta that you were talking with a career."

How did he know already? I don't think Peeta said anything are the Mentors able to watch the training from somewhere? I shrug. "I don't see what it matters. I'm not teaming up with them, I know better than that, but it doesn't hurt to talk, and see for myself what I'm dealing with."

"I think its brilliant," said Haymitch. "Go with your gut. Its the only way to get out alive." He was about to swallow that last of his glass when I swooped in, caught it with one hand, and downed it. He glared at me, but I could see a sparkling glint of amusement. "I hope that wasn't your gut talking."

"Maybe," I said as my eyes watered, and the alcohol burned my throat. "Besides, if I'm old enough to kill, I'm damn well old enough to drink."

"Cheers to that!" Haymitch hollered, and poured both of us a drink, and together we drank the scotch deeply together. "Just don't get plastered, you should go back down, make more friends."

I was struck curious about that for a moment, Haymitch had warned us on the train about the Careers. After the promise from Haymitch I felt better, a renewed spirit that I didn't know even existed in me. I felt as if I would at least do well enough.

I don't know what gave me that renewed hope. Whatever it was, I didn't care, I was going to grab hold, and never let go until I breathe my last breath. "I just hope – it doesn't come down to Peeta and me."

"..." Haymitch said nothing. He couldn't, I knew.

I slid off the stool, staggering a little causing Haymitch to bark a laugh as I gave him a rude gesture. I tightened my braid, and punched the button on the elevator.

As I staggered out back into the training room, everything was suddenly double. Whoa, whatever Haymitch had been drinking was getting to me. I felt buzzed, and Peeta was standing beside me suddenly – two of them.

"... are you drunk, Katniss?" Peeta asked horrified.

This got the attention of several Tributes as I shrugged. "What's it matter?"

"...I'm going to kill Haymitch."

"You're no boss of me," I said factually causing a hurt look to cross Peeta. "No one is. I have nothing to lose now." I waved him off as I moved steadily over to the snares and trap area, mostly to sit down in the grass that stretched across a risen foundation with different traps and wires that looked familiar from all my time in the woods with Gale.

The trainer was delighted that I knew what I was doing, and he decided to show me an advanced snare. I wasn't as good as Gale, but I certainly wasn't a lost cause.

There was a dinner that night upstairs, I remained out of the conversation for the most part as I didn't feel up to discussing things.

Haymitch looked like he was studying us, and thinking, but I couldn't tell under all the alcohol he was drinking.

That night when everyone went to bed, I crawled out of the bed thinking about what Cato had said. I knew I shouldn't leave the room, but I couldn't help it. Instead of slipping into my training gear, I pulled on a pair of black slacks and a shiny green sleeveless shirt that went to my thighs. It was snapped on the shoulder blades by gold brackets, and my hair was down and soft. It lay in curly sheets around my head as I tried to bunch it aside. I was barefooted as I padded across the vast sitting room to the hallway where the elevator sat waiting for me to make a decision.

My stubborn curiosity was driving me, and maybe I was feeling a little rebellious because I was soon going down to the training center.

It was dark except for a gentle glow, I knew I was probably being watched, but I didn't care. What more could they do to me? I crossed the room silently, and I can't help myself but to go straight to the bows. I ran my fingertips over the solid wood and metals, I knew my eyes were gleaming – I could feel the pull inside the itching to grasp a hold of one.

I chose a bow made out of a sturdy light wood, I smell it – and its not the pine that mine. I took a quiver and loaded it with some gorgeous red feathered arrows. They were sharp, and absolutely wonderful.

I pressed the button in front of the shooting range, and orange faceless humans began to run back and forth. I held the bow in my hand, pulling the taut strings, and took in a deep breath, and thought about the woods back home.

A deer to feed my family, and before I knew it I became lost in the shooting. One after another until more and more orange glowing dummies raced across my sights.

I killed everyone in my sights, and they exploded in shards. I moved minutely, knowing how much energy to put into each shot to get it just right. From the head to the heart, and then the last two I hit dead in what could be considered the eye.

I was so focused on it that I didn't notice the shadow, and when I did I swung around, bow ready. It was Cato, and his hands were up in a clear sign of defense.

"Not now, Fire Girl. That'd be bad sport when I'm not even in the Arena yet."

I took a breath, and lowered my bow. I glared at him. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it wasn't a good idea to sneak up on someone?"

"I didn't sneak up, I called your name, and you were gone." He smirked. "Your shooting is impeccable."

"I know."

"Cocky."

"No more than you."

"True – _so_ – tell me how does a little girl from the 12th District learn to shoot?"

"How indeed?" I reiterated. I wasn't getting myself damned by telling him anything, especially if there were cameras and listening devices. I didn't want it to come back on my family. "Can you shoot?"

"I'd rather lunge," said Cato taking the bow, and then snagging an arrow from my quiver. He drew it back, and while he did it well, I could tell he wasn't accustomed to using it. His fingers were too thick even though his aim was steady.

He hit the first moving dummy in the foot, and then the knee. "A little higher, and I'll be impressed," I couldn't help but tease, and Cato snorted.

"I bet..." Cato said, and then aimed right for the crotch. "Impressed?"

"I'll give you an eight." Cato scoffed, and I shrugged. I don't know why I'm having such an easy conversation with him. I can't understand why. He was one of the ruthless, bloodthirsty Careers that I was trained to despise. He even had the look downpat, the only one even remotely bigger than him was the boy from 11. "Prove you can do better, and I might make it a nine."

Cato lowered the bow, and eyed me with scrutiny. "I'll secure you a bow at the arena."

I roll my eyes. "I don't need it secured."

"Yes – yes you do. If Clove gets even a second chance, you are dead."

"Not if I get her first," I promised.

"You won't see it coming. That's how all beginnings start."

"Why are you telling me this?" I ask with a hand on my hip. "I mean nothing to you. I'm just a number."

"Perhaps that's true, but perhaps I also like challenges. I want to see what you can do, Fire Girl."

"Don't call me that," I snapped with irritation.

Cato smirked. "Kat then?"

I glared again. No one has ever called me Kat. If they did they'd be strung upside down in the nearest tree. I walked away from him at that, and examined the knives and swords glistening along the wall. "Call me Kat and I'll skewer you."

He finds this amusing. Glad someone does because I do not. Pet names, I hate them, except for Gale's.

Cato follows at my heels, and I don't know why. What is going on in that head of his? I couldn't help but wonder. I felt odd, not normal. Almost – _giddy_, and that was not something I was accustomed to feeling.

"So – were you really drunk coming down today?" he asked grinning as I balanced a few swords in my hand. I'm not very good with them, but I suppose they're like knives.

"Not really, had a drink with Haymitch."

"Yes, the head diving off the stage drunkard. I am so impressed," he mocked.

I shrug. "No time to be choosy." Cato conceded to that. "First time I officially met him, he puked everywhere." Cato snorted. "Took ramming a table knife into a wall to get him to sober up just enough to mentor us."

"Probably because he actually had a fighter in the group," said Cato wisely.

I was surprise that Cato would even say such a thing. "So, you do pay attention?"

"Enough. I'm told its pointless, all the outlying districts, but I still watch and learn. I probably pay more attention than they like me to. As you said, it can't be a coincidence that the youngest ones seem to come from the outlying districts."

"A lot of us take tesserae. I refused to let Prim do it," I said coolly as I used the dummies as knife throwing practice. I was nowhere near as precise as Cato's fellow Tribute, but I could hold my own. I hit most of the targets, three of the ten square in the chest.

"You look well fed."

"Imagine that?" I smirked at him, but said nothing more. I put the knives down, and pick up another sword. This one is heavy, but I pretend its not. I don't want him to see my lack of knowledge, but its obvious.

Cato arched an eyebrow. "Hm... you are not holding that right. Its not a knife." He took the sword from my hands, and then tossed it. "This will only get you killed." He fished around, and found one with a light weight, and handed it to me. "Follow me."

We went over to a mat, and even though Tributes weren't supposed to train with one another, we did anyway. He began to correct my hands, and showed me a few swift movements.

I should just drop it and walk away, but I find myself intrigued, and follow suit. "Never had much need for a sword." It would only slow me down during a hunt, but I don't say that out loud.

"Never know when you need it." It was obviously his favorite weapon of choice.

I didn't tell him I was ordered not to stay around the cornucopia due to the bloodbath. It would be tempting if there was a bow in the midst of it all, but I wasn't counting on it.

I stifled a yawn not long after, and Cato chuckled. "Sleepy, Kat?"

I hiss at the nickname, and he laughs even harder as if I've proved his point. I want to punch him, but he's so big I think twice. "I need to go to bed before I'm caught. Haymitch will have my head if he finds out I've been down here."

"Not to mention your little Lover Boy."

I glare even more harshly. "I do _not_ like Peeta."

"I didn't say _you_ did." Cato pointed out. I pause at that, frozen in horror at the idea. Cato snorted. "You didn't know? You couldn't tell?"

"Uhm... no?" Now I feel weird. I shake my head. I have no time to dwell on that thought. "Going to bed. Good night, Cato."

"Night, Kat."

"_Jerk_!" I call back, and all I hear as I punch the elevator button is his laughter, which isn't as ice cold or ruthless as I expected it to be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Note: Every chapter I finish, I typically upload another chapter. I think that gives me a good balance, and some wiggle room if I were to need it. **

2.

_**Cato**_

Its the second day of their training at the center, and only a few days altogether until the Hunger Games begin. I am lying in bed aware of the fact that my Mentors are right outside jabbering away in the other room. I can still hear them. I can also hear Clove. I don't know what she is saying, and I don't give a damn.

I'm staring at the vaulted opulent ceiling thinking about things. Some people would laugh at me thinking, most believe I'm a brainless sociopath, and they should think that. I have to make them think that. They have to fear me because if they don't then I die.

Its not a matter of want. Its a need. I _have_ to do this.

I can't quite place why it is that I'm drawn to that girl from District 12. I've been raised to hate everyone and everything, but I can't seem to shake it. Its starting to drive me crazy. Last night, I had been in awe when I watched her quite literally own the archery station.

She could kill me in an instant. That small fiery little girl from District 12 could have me dead in a second. If there was a fight, me with all my favorite weapons, and her with just a bow – I wouldn't last.

No way in hell.

So, why don't I see her as an enemy? Why don't I feel this rage that should bubble beneath the surface? I don't quite know myself, and it kind of bothers me. The way she speaks, its as if she is always carefully considering her words. She's not like the others, she's not cold and icy, but she's blunt and precise.

She has something – something I see in Julia back home. Julia is the youngest. She's five years old, and has a smile that would make any monster crumble. She has a natural warmth that makes others want to be near her no matter how cold she is. Its as if she is like that for all the right reasons.

Is it because I can tell she is a good person? Her Reaping had been unusual, and it sparked interest. It made Clove and Glimmer burn with a fiery hatred, they wanted to see her dead.

Why didn't I want to see her dead? Knowing full well that she could kill me.

There was a tap on the door, and I see Enobaria standing there one hand on her hip. "Getting up sunshine?"

"Don't call me that," I growl sitting up.

"I heard last night that you were getting cozy with a certain, fire girl," she sneers in disgust.

"What of it?"

The tall tan skinned woman smirked, showing her gold inlaid teeth that were razor sharp. "Not a bad idea as long as she's worth your time."

"I wouldn't know." I find myself not speaking of Katniss' skills with the bow. I don't know why, I should, but I don't. "We only talked, tied knots that's it."

"Should learn more about her... find her weakness and her strengths."

"Doubt she'd tell me," I lied easily as I grab a towel, and then slam the door to the bathroom, swiftly cutting off any form of communication with my mentor.

She's alright, not as horrible as I've been warned. At least it isn't Brutus. One would think I would have the male mentor, but it doesn't work that way all the time. The mentor's pick which one of the Tributes they believe has the best shot of winning, and then the second is tasked with protecting that Tribute.

I'm the chosen one. I win and Clove protects me. I think this is why she's so acidic toward me talking with Katniss. She has to give her life for mine.

It should bug me, but I've been raised to think differently. I know that. I know it should. I should feel something, regret or guilt maybe, but I don't.

I don't know how.

I don't even talk to Clove during breakfast, and ignore the Mentors and District 2 Escort, Lala – a long purple haired woman with the palest of skin, and an odd heart shaped mark on her left cheek. She was the worst of them all. Every time she spoke that high pitched voice made me want to snap her neck.

I've already pinned her to the wall once on the train when she tried to order me around. It was instinctual, and my Mentors – _both_ of them had to pull me off her. She hasn't addressed me since.

I leave the table without dismissing myself, and instead of the elevator I take the small staircase the short distance to the gym. Its only nine thirty, and it seems as if I'm the only one who has arrived early.

My head is a cloudy mess, and so I decide to take it out at the spear station, and it ends with the trainer nearly sobbing from my ruthlessness. The mess of my head was just receding back into its depths when other Tributes began to file out one by one from the elevators provided.

I hope I get a moments peace, but I don't because Glimmer, the District 1 Tribute makes a beeline for me. I can't hide the disgust on my face, but she doesn't seem to notice.

"Hi, Cato," she purred. "Want to work together today?" she asked beaming.

I would like to tell her to fuck off, but my Mentor explicitly said to add the District 1 Careers if I get a chance. I don't think this girl will be much use, her Sponsors maybe. It's obvious she's going to use the sexy angle. Most men would think she was sexy. I guess she is with her full figured hour glass body, long blonde hair, and bright green eyes.

I however see something else, I see – stupidity. I have no doubt that she can be deadly, one of those Black Widow types that we have in District 2. The ones who marry, and then something happens to their husbands leaving them with an infinite amount of riches and sympathies.

My District is too stupid to put two and two together, and they say I'm the idiot? I know I'm not the sharpest weapon mentally, but even I can see right through her.

She won't get out of the Arena alive. I know this, if not by my hand then someone elses. I hope its Katniss who takes her. I don't say this nor do I show it as I walk away in hopes of putting distance between us, but she follows at my heels like a puppy.

Clove seems to find it amusing, Marvel is glaring – its obvious he likes his fellow Tribute. Good for him. I want nothing to do with her. My unannounced group gather around me at the heavy weapons station. They are all laughing and causing a ruckus, and getting the attention of everyone else.

Every now and then I join in, but I really don't want to ally myself with these two. I see Katniss on the other side of the training playing with the snares again. Its obvious that she's not going to show any amount of what she can do. I don't quite blame her. Everyone is already writing her off as useless. Glimmer was making fun of her, and Clove seemed to be enjoying it.

I slip from my group, and make my way casually around the stations. I don't stop at the ones that my Mentors deemed as useless, except for the snares. It would probably be best if I didn't approach her, but my feet are moving before I can stop them.

"Come forward, Cato – you might find yourself dangling from a tree," Katniss muses without looking up.

"You sure it can hold me?"

Katniss then looks up at me, those piercing gray eyes sizing me up. I'm used to being sized up. Glimmer had been doing it since she saw me, but this look – this one was making me feel awkward. I don't react more than cocking my head to the side, smirk in place. "Hm... want to test it?"

"No thanks."

"_Ah_, well just as long as the rabbits aren't as big as you, I'll be fine."

"And if they are?"

Katniss shrugs, not answering. Perhaps, she already has a plan, and doesn't want to spill it. I can't blame her, we've damned ourselves enough with trading useless information that could be used against each other. I find myself sitting down, and trying a snare, the trainer is delighted to have a Career trying it out. Probably one of the first times. I don't have much taste for them, never saw a need, but I find doing this is kind of – relaxing. My mind goes away from the impending bloodshed, the thirst I inherently crave due to the years of training.

If you want to call it training.

Katniss is looking at my snare, and I feel the need to do my best, but I'm all thumbs just like the knots. My fingers are not practiced like hers. Its obvious that even though she comes from the poor district, she has survived. She has taken care of herself and her family – I bet she hunts. As illegal as it is there is no other reason for her to be as good with a bow as she is. I've seen District 12 Tributes year after year – most of them are hollow, skinny, cheekbones prominent, and while Katniss has very little weight, she is sturdy – strong. I bet she takes that risk, and its fairly obvious that she will have an advantage in the Arena. She can find food, while I've been counted on to get a hold of the supplies at the Cornucopia.

"You're a wily one," I say absently.

"And you're not as stupid as you let on," Katniss remarks back.

"Probably not. Do you want to team up together?"

"Maybe with you, but not with them," Katniss' eyes are lingering on the three Careers glaring at us.

I look over my shoulder, smirk at them, and turn back. "Am I just that irresistible?"

Katniss rolls those eyes. "Hardly, you're just less – _grotesque_."

"I'm flattered," I mock knowing it was an insult, but still amuses me nonetheless.

"Don't be."

"Same time tonight?" I ask before I can stop.

Katniss' face is blank as it always is, and she's quiet as she uses a rock to test her snare. Its perfect. Much better than my pathetic attempt. "Maybe." She then leans just an inch closer so no one can hear us, not even cameras. "I hear the roof is splendid, the wind is loud though."

"..." I know what she is saying. She wants away from the cameras, the eyes and ears of the Capitol. I can hardly blame her. "Is that so?"

"Hm..."

I don't know why I want to talk to her so bad. Perhaps its because back home there is no one to talk to. Everyone in District 2 is well trained and groomed for giving their life to the Capitol. I guess I have been to, but there is something they can't take from me. I don't know what that is, once again my intelligence isn't as large of a pool as some of the others. I just know I want to talk, and talk to her.

Maybe its because she's real?

I can't even begin to explain it. Maybe I don't want to.

**Katniss**

The roof? I invited him onto the roof, a Career Tribute. One that will have no trouble slashing my neck in the Arena. I can't believe this, have I lost all common sense?

I can't begin to understand it or myself. What was I thinking? Haymitch would be beside himself, and I can see Peeta glaring at me as if accusing me of ruining his life. I think about what Cato said last night about Peeta liking me.

That's absurd, we'd never had a conversation – not even during the bread incident when he fed me. He couldn't possibly like me. It was stupid to think about. Out of the corner of my eye I see Cato pushing Glimmer away, and I can't help but smirk in satisfaction. Glimmer looks as if her whole world is about to collapse when he does it. He even ignores her, causing her to pout so prettily.

I'm surprised, I had figured a man like Cato would be all over someone as lush and beautiful as Glimmer. I guess not.

Why am I thinking about this? It's ridiculous. The more I talk to Cato the more I find it hard to see him as a number that needs to be killed. I look around at all the Tributes. Most of them are going to be facing imminent death.

Maybe its better for them. Maybe in death they can get away from the Capitol's hold on them. I see Rue, the small little District 11 girl playing with the plants. She looks up, and our eyes lock. I can't help but give her a real smile as I would Prim.

She gushes at me, and my heart pounds. My instincts are to grab that little girl, and hide her away somewhere safe. I want to protect her. I wonder if I can. I doubt it, but I'd like to try. I can't kill her – no way. Not even for my own life. I'm not a trained Career, I don't have that mindset.

I hunt animals. I don't hunt humans. Gale is an idiot to say that animals and humans are the same. Its not. You don't eat humans unless you've gone crazy. You don't make personal connections with them unless you're Prim. I haven't spoken to Rue, but she already has a personal connection to me.

My sister. It would be like hurting my sister. I can't do that. It would kill me inside, it would break everything that I was.

I'm done with the snares, and there's nothing more for me to really do. The most elaborate would take time to put down, and I doubt I have time. Time is not on my side. It never is.

I thank the trainer, and leave the station. Peeta is at the camouflage station, but I can't get myself to approach so instead I go over to the edible plants and bugs section. I've never had to eat bugs – and while I would if it came down to it, I prefer to shoot what I eat.

And there she is, Prim, no Rue sitting on her knees, her wild curly hair around her angel face.

"These are really good for Tracker Jacker stings," she makes the conversation first as I sit across from her. She is holding out some leaves I recognize. I take one, and investigate it. "Get them wet, and put them on the wounds, don't forget to take the stingers out first or it'll be worse."

I smile sadly. "You've run into them, huh?"

"Oh yes, the orchards in 11 are covered with them, particularly high up."

Orchards, that's right. "You are from the Agriculture district?" We don't know much about other districts except the basic of the basics. District 1 – luxury items. District 2 is where the Peacekeepers come from, and so on and so forth. But, its obvious that the Capitol doesn't want us to know too much so they leave it at that. Nothing more and nothing less than the basics, and some of it is probably a lie as well.

She bobs her head. "Yep. I saw you talking to that big boy."

I shrug. "He talks to me."

"I think he likes you," Rue whispers, and I roll my eyes.

"Hardly, we don't even know each other."

"I think he liked what you did, for your sister."

I look down. "I'm sorry no one else could take your place," I find myself saying. I am aware of her fellow Tribute nearby. I suppose he is watching out for her, so he could hear everything we're saying.

"We have too many people as it is," said Rue shrugging. "It's okay. I have sisters and brothers to. I'm the oldest."

"Still, its not fair." I know what I'm saying is ridiculous, and it could get me in a world of trouble, but I can't help myself. This instinct I have to try and protect her, to try and say something. Let her know I am not like the others, I may be trying to survive, but I could never ever harm such a precious little girl.

"You're very brave you know," says Rue to me, and my stomach twirls.

"I don't think so. I have a flight instinct, not a fight. I'll run as long as possible, till I can't anymore."

Rue doesn't seem to believe me, but she humors me anyway. "That's all we can do."

We trade words, and I learn more about her District, and I offer up information about ours as well, and I feel suddenly as if we are not at the Hunger Games ready and waiting to fight for our lives. What I wouldn't give if it could be so. I was meeting Rue under different circumstances, I'd invite her home, and feed her and her siblings. I would, I could do it. I could hunt, and she could bring the food.

We could have a feast, and get our bellies filled, and go to sleep peacefully.

Lunch comes, and I find myself sitting with Rue instead of Peeta who is talking to a boy from District 3 I think it is. Rue comments about how good the food is, and that she'd never had a full plate in her life.

I can't help but ruffle her head, and offer my melon even though I know there's plenty. She cheers at this, and I am aware that I'm being watched. I look up, and my eyes lock with Cato. His eyes are a deep dark blue – almost like navy. He's watching me, and I look away. I don't feel particularly comfortable with it, and why would he even care about a District 12 girl who likely had no chance of winning.

What was his game? I don't know. Why am I playing it?

I roll this question around in my head, and then I think I'm playing it because there are so many worse games to play. If I play this game, I can imagine for one moment that the Hunger Games don't exist.

Maybe he thinks the same way or maybe he's trying to weaken me. Well, the latter isn't going to work. I hope he realizes that by now.

Maybe he has, and he simply wants someone to talk to? I don't know, my mind is fuzzy, and I wipe it away mentally. There's no use in dwelling on something I don't have an answer for.

It almost midnight by the time I make my way to the roof. The wind is howling, and the gorgeous rose garden glitters in the night sky. I press my hands to the railing, and peer down into the lit up streets. Some party is still going on in the square, and I can't help but wonder if this is all they day all day every day.

Did they trade in their pride and dignity, their own minds for nothing but entertainment? Did they agree to give up everything else so long as they can have a good life? What kind of life was this? I could just imagine how they would do in the Arena. They'd all die within a day. The Capitol people wouldn't know what it was like to starve, and watch loved ones starving. They couldn't possibly understand the horror of sending children off to death.

The fear when a beautiful woman gets pregnant for the first time because the only thing that comes to mind is _'will my child live to see his or her thirteenth birthday?'_ Will they die in the arena or will they starve to death first? How can I provide when the Capitol insists on keeping us safe with electric fences?

I'm sixteen, and while I know my mother is scared to death it would be completely different if Prim was in my place right now. There's just something horrifying about someone so small being forced to kill or be killed. A precious life snuffed out in the blink of an eye.

I take a deep breath when the massive shadow consumes me, and hands press down next to mine, and I'm suddenly arm to arm with Cato. His muscles rippling, and twitching against my slim puny ones. He's so big, I'm surprised the force field doesn't touch the top of his head.

For a long time neither of us speak, and its pleasant and quiet except for the wind rushing and whipping. "No cameras?" He asks after some time.

"I've been told that cameras go haywire because of the force-field, and microphones die."

He smirked. "Clever. You're lucky, you have a view."

"What view? Of that -" I point to the trash down below. "People getting wasted, eating their fill, cheering and betting who dies and who lives. Not caring that they are someone's child, a future mother or father, a sibling – imagine _them_ in the Arena?"

"They wouldn't last a second," said Cato simply. "I've never been allowed to think like that."

"I thought District 2 lived a coddled life."

"We do," he said easily. "But there's always a price. Some are happy to volunteer, some do it for the glory. I admit, the glory is nice, and I'm trained to enjoy it. I do – I'm bloodthirsty – the idea of getting into the Arena, and destroying everything in my path – its in my blood. Are you any different?"

I glare at him. "I'm different because I can't see so black and white. I can't see humans as animals."

"Lucky you," Cato says contritely. "When the time comes, and its you and them – what are you going to do?"

"I'll do what I have to," I say as my fingernails scrape against the concrete rail. I know my prep team are going to be furious at how scratched and scraped they'll be. "I'll probably kill when the time comes, but I'm going to do it on my own terms. Not because they want me to, but because I have to."

"Not all of us have that luxury," said Cato bitterly.

"Guess not." I turn, and then slip onto the balcony with my legs swinging.

Cato looks at me blankly. I'm trying to read his face, but I'm at a loss. I can't even begin to decipher what this guy is thinking. He's going to be my prey in the arena, I'll be his prey as well, and yet here I am talking to him.

I look him over with scrutiny, but once again my instincts are coming up dry. That's unusual.

"You think I don't know what we are to the Capitol? You think I don't see it? I have three little sisters, and because of my volunteering they will never have to worry about having their names in the bowl. Never will they be called to do what I have to do."

"Don't try and weaken me," I snap.

"I'm not," said Cato shortly. "What I say only makes you stronger. I know that, and you know that. Perhaps, I just wanted someone to talk to that understands – understands in a way that no one else – not one person in my own district could."

I can understand that, but I still don't trust him. I only give him a small nod as I looked away. I feel something odd as Cato looks at me. I don't know what it is, and I'm not sure I like it. "Can I ask one favor of you?"

Cato smirked. "Favors now, huh? Want me to kill pretty boy for you?"

I shake my head. "Keep your allies away from Rue," I say quietly. "If she dies, I'd rather it be – humane."

"I doubt my crew are even thinking about her. They'll probably forget she exists, but I agree. However I have a favor of my own."

I frown, and look at him. He standing now. "When it comes down to you and me, and I know it will, we fight with everything we have to kill one another."

I scowl. "I won't make it."

"Bull shit," Cato snapped. "I see it. You are a survivor! You're a fighter. You won't give up until the end. I want you to throw everything you have at me."

"You're so sure you'll end up at the end?"

Cato smirked. "I know I will, and I know you will. At least if I die, I die a worthy death."

I can't believe he is saying this to me. I want to smack him or scratch his eyes out. But I can't. My heart is trembling inside, and the blood is pooling around my neck threatening to spill from my ears. "There are no worthy deaths in the Hunger Games."

"We can make them worthy then." He holds out his large muscled hand. "Deal?"

I take in a deep breath, and then before I can say anything my hand is reacting. My instincts clawing at me as I place my smaller hand in his. His palm is so hot that I can feel it deep beneath my skin. He doesn't try to break my hand like I expected, instead he gives me a squeeze, and a small smile plays on his face. A real smile.

Not one of those constructed smirks that he gives out. No, this was real, and I see the little blonde haired, blue eyed child for the briefest of seconds. A child trying to protect his family.

"Your Mentors would be beside themselves if they could see you," I say to lighten the mood.

Cato snorted. "Probably, don't give a shit though. Why should I?"

I think I understand Cato a little better, and I realize as we stand there staring up at the star speckled sky that Cato hasn't let go of my hand, and while I should jerk it away the warmth is what stops me.

Such a cold blooded killer couldn't have such warm hands could they? His one hand completely swallowed mine, and I bet they could swallow both with ease. I feel a thumb brush along the top, and I look at him. Cato isn't look at me, he's looking at the stars, and doesn't seem to be realizing what he's doing.

My skin is getting warmer, flushing a light pink despite the cool air. I shiver unconsciously, and look away as Cato drops his gaze. He notices me shivering from the wind, and the next thing I know he's putting a jacket around my shoulders. It's a leather jacket, and it smells crisp, and like cologne. It swallows me whole, and I know I look dwarfed in it. He's left in a white sleeveless t-shirt that is form fitting showing all his muscles in his chest and torso, and a pair of gray sweatpants that hang loosely on his hips.

I refuse to find him attractive.

He doesn't smell like the pine that I'm used to from Gale. The scent of nature, the lingering etch of coal dust even if you didn't work in the mines as it always hung in the air like black smoke.

"Thank you. I'm fine. What about you?"

Cato shrugged. "Doesn't bother me."

I snort. "Right, course not." There are so many things I should do right now. I should get up and leave, I should deny the warmth, I should yank my hand from Cato and declares us enemies. We have a war to fight, and we are on opposite sides.

The poor starving girl from the Seam versus the well fed and trained Monster boy from District 2 – the lapdogs of the Capitol. So, why am I not doing it then? Why am I not reacting in the way I should? Why do I feel more pity for him? He hasn't suffered like my people have in District 12. He has never gone hungry, and he's never been forced to work until permanently sore like Rue. He turns then, and sits on the balcony beside me, my hand still in his, and I feel it resting on his thigh. It's thick, and the material of the sweatpants doesn't hide the muscles.

If anything it made them more prominent, and I can't pull away. My heart is beating, and my body is tingling. What am I feeling? What's going on? I'm confused, and I'm completely out of my element.

"You have small hands," Cato comments what I've been observing.

"Brute." I take in a sharp breath when his fingertips graze my palm.

I'm kind of sleepy, but I don't want to leave. There were no cameras, and no listening devices to overhear me, and for once I feel a sense of normalcy even if only for a moment. I shut my eyes for a moment, the wind washing over me wasn't so biting because of the jacket, and now only served to make me more comfortable. I feel my body becoming light, and something really warm settles around me. It's almost as if I'm hypnotized, and the world around me disappears as something encloses around me.

**Cato**

How can she fall asleep like that? I wrap my arms around her, aware of how soft she smells. There are no perfumes or fruity scents to make me sneeze. She smells clean, and I hold her as her light weight settles against me, unaware of what she is doing because I know if she did, she'd spring away as if I were on fire.

Funny that. She was the Fire Girl after all. I am careful as I slip my arms around her, and slip easily off the balcony until we are on the lush green grass. She seems not to notice, and I take in a breath when she shifts and curls around my entire left side.

It was such a simple and innocent gesture. I can only watch as she curls into me, her small body pressed to me, our heat radiating and bouncing back and forth. I can only watch her as I'm stunned into silence. A strange awareness that I am not accustomed to. She can't feel all that safe falling asleep beside me, but maybe she didn't realize what she was doing. It was one of those nights where it was just so easy to drop your guard.

I hold onto her thinking about our conversation, the deal we made. She doesn't trust me that much was easy, but she had to ask somebody, and it was me she asked because she knows I can do it. Probably one of the few people who can agree to ignore the little girl that touched this young woman's heart.

It should be unprecedented. I shouldn't be agreeing, but I do. Unlike me, I can trust her word because she is not like me. She is not like Clove or Glimmer or anyone else. She is someone different, she is the Girl on Fire, and I know that live or die, she won't go down dishonorably.

Maybe that's why I'm drawn to her? She's fierce and headstrong, stubborn, and yet at the same time she is also pure. A purity that I've only seen in my little sisters. She's a true person, and it doesn't take a genius to realize why someone would be in love with her. I could imagine her admirers in her District.

They are all the silent type, unable to get close to her, but that didn't mean they didn't notice her. Its likely that they watched her a lot without her ever knowing. She was one of those.

The types that do not exist in my district very often. My mother was like that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Note: Thank you for the response to this story! I'm cheered that you're happy with it. I'm trying not to move things too fast. I have finished Chapter 6 and this is why you're getting 3 so early. It was a bit of a tricky chapter, but I'm pleased with how it turned out. I'll keep updating regularly. I think I know whats going to happen in this story from beginning to end. I have it planned out. Around chapter 7-8 is where I have to make the rating go up as you know the Hunger Games aren't exactly fairy tales, and deaths happen. I'll put warnings ahead of time. **

3.

**Katniss**

Something was breathing underneath me, and when I come to, I feel the wind rushing through me, ruffling my hair and face. Its warm, but my lips feel chapped. My head is on something hard, and the smell of cologne tickles my nose, and when I raise my head, I'm alarmed. I scoot back out of the arms of District 2's Career Tribute, horror railing through me as I watch the blonde sleeping half sitting up, and half lying down.

Somehow we had gotten off the balcony and onto the grassy knoll that stretched across the roof. I take a deep breath as my heart beats wildly in my chest, and the color on my cheeks – oh I can't see them, but I just know they are red considering the heat coming from me.

I am wrapped in Cato's leather jacket, and begin to pull it closer only to scowl silently and rip it off my shoulders, angry at myself for weakening and falling asleep. What the hell is wrong with me? I look away, ignoring the sight of the peacefully sleeping Tribute.

Yes, that's right. He's a Tribute, and he's going to try and kill me. In a few short days our conversations will be null and void, and we'll become strangers once again. One or both of us will turn into a beast of imaginable power, and we'll overtake each other, and only one comes out of it alive.

I rub my eyes, and wonder to myself what time it is when Cato's eyes flicker open, and he winces from the sunlight streaming over the roof. "Morning..."

"..." I don't know what to say. He's giving me a blinding smile, and I glare at him. He chuckles roughly as he sits up, wincing as he had used the concrete base of the balcony as a pillow.

He rubs his neck as I toss his jacket to him. I stifle a cough as my throat is raw from the wind, and I need water.

"Better get downstairs before I'm missed," I finally speak, and when I do its hoarse.

"Is that an invitation?" I glare harder if it was possible, and he's laughing at me now as he folds his jacket across his arm. "Come on, Katniss we spent the night together, quite peacefully to."

"Which shouldn't have happened," I rasp standing. My clothes are rumpled, and my hair is knotted and matted from all the wind. Its still rushing being so high up, and I feel as though I am drenched in Cato's cologne. It doesn't smell awful, but I'm unaccustomed to such smells. If Gale ever smelled like this, he would attract every bee and fly in the area, and possibly something else that my bow won't be able to take down.

It'd be a disaster.

"Tonight same time?"

I want to punch him in that moment as he stands, towering over me. He's grinning now, not the smirks he uses, and I want to tell him to go away and ignore me, but before I do my mouth opens. "Fine." I push him toward the door. "Get going before we're caught."

"Yes ma'am."

"Ass."

We take the elevator together, and I make Cato stand to the side, hidden by the metal in case anyone was waiting on the other side.

"You sure are bossy," Cato taunts.

I'm not sorry about it, and Cato seems more amused than anything. He pushes up against the wall on the opposite side when the elevator dings. I step out, and immediately Cato closes it to go down to his floor.

I am relieved when no one is meeting me at the elevator with angry glares and demands on where I've been. Apparently, its too early for that as Haymitch is passed out on the sofa, bottles of alcohol littering around him on the floor.

I creep quietly passed, cheering internally when the man is completely dead to the world. I slip into my room as I hear the door on the other side open. Taking a deep breath, I head for a nice hot shower with hopes that the steam would loosen my throat muscles.

After braiding my wet hair, and letting it fall to my back I head out of the room to see everyone up and around for breakfast.

Peeta is looking at me oddly. "You weren't in your room last night."

Mm, how would he actually know that? I shrug. "I was hanging out on the roof." Away from cameras, but I didn't say that.

Haymitch was giving me a long suffering look, and suddenly I'm wondering if I still smell like Cato's cologne. When everyone's busy getting food, I sniff my wrist only to get a snort of amusement from the bedraggled man as if he knew what I was up to.

I purse my lips together as I sip my orange juice. Maybe he wasn't as knocked out as I thought he was. If he knows, then he doesn't seem to be saying anything.

According to Effie its not just a training day, but a training day for the interviews. I was going to spend four hours with Effie – what oh what could we be doing for that long, I have no idea.

I can't believe I'm thinking this, but I can't wait to see Cato tonight, if only to get away from whatever Effie could possibly teach me as if she knew anything. I decided to ignore and not think about the funny feeling in my belly.

**Cato**

Lala was shaking in her heels at the prospect of training me for the audience. I sat there staring at her as if she were a piece of meat that needed to be sliced. Every time she tried to speak she would come up short. "You know – just be yourself, I'm going to see Clove." She rose from her position, and bolted from the room leaving me alone.

Good riddance, I thought in disgust. I sat there for a long time staring at nothing at all, contemplating whats going to happen in the next few days when Clove comes into the room an hour or two later with a heated expression. She looks as if she is ready to kill someone.

"Great, she's so terrified of you that she's taking it out on me!" she growled. I shrug. I could careless. "Where the hell were you last night by the way?"

"None of your business."

"It is my business if I have to risk my life for you," Clove snarled. "I have to know the score, Cato! That's the plan."

I vaguely listen to her chewing me out, and resist the urge to snap her neck in the midst of her tirade when Brutus comes for her.

The more I listen to their bullshit about the glory of the games, the more I start to feel ill and a little pissed off. They keep reminiscing about their own games, and how much fun they were. I don't know if its because I've been spending my time with someone who thinks the total opposite, and its starting to have a sobering effect on me or because the way I truly feel deep down inside is starting to emerge.

I can't help but think that everyone in my district really are fools.

I spend the rest of the day pretending to accept tips from Enobaria about stage presence, and how I should go about pleasing the crowd. I can't wait until this is over with, all this posturing for the sponsors. It's true I'm going to need them, but I can't help but despise it.

Later that night, I slip onto the roof, leather jacket in hand hoping to find Katniss waiting for me. I don't know why but the adrenaline in my veins is unlike anything I've felt before. She is competition, but she's also something else. I can't quite put my finger on it, and it bothers me.

My chest acts funny when I see her sitting on the grassy knoll, her slim legs tucked to one side, and she's rubbing them with a pained look on her face. She's wearing a hunter green tank top, and a pair of black shorts with her hair tied in a messy braid. She looks like she's sulking.

She glances up at me when I take a couple steps toward her, the glow from the moon and stars shine off her olive skin that was free of all makeup as I come to sit down in front of her wordlessly.

"Tell me you went through the same hell I just did," she scoffed continuing to rub her feet.

"Sorry, my escort was too terrified of me."

"Wish I could do terror," she snorted enviously. "According to Haymitch I have the personality of a dead slug. Guess who won't be getting a single sponsor?"

Cato arched an eyebrow. "Is that why your feet are sore? Kicking him?"

She laughed before she could stifle it, and shook her head. "I wish, no, I spent the last four hours trying to walk in five inch stiletto heels! What is so good about heels? They're no good for running, and make your ankles swell – except maybe kicking someone. Why do I have to try and sit like a lady?" she sneered in disgust. "Why can't I be myself?"

"Why not? Who said you couldn't be?" I ask listening to her complaints.

"Uh, everyone?" Katniss' tone made it sound more like a statement than a question as if it were obvious.

"I'm not everyone. I like you." Probably more than I should, but I don't say this.

"Yeah, _right_." She did however give me one of those rare and very small smiles. She wasn't the type to give them out much, I could see. A lot like me. I don't smile much, smirk, yes because smirking is acceptable. However, and outright smile can get you killed or beaten. "_Ulgh_, I feel like someone has shot little tiny pebbles in the balls of my feet."

I lay the jacket aside, and wordlessly I reach over and grab the ankle that she's rubbing. She squeaks, surprised by my move, and before she can jerk them away or protest I start rubbing along the soles of her feet. They're clean and soft, the Prep Team wouldn't have had it any other way, and as she is giving me a dirty look she gasps when my thumb presses into a particular muscle, and she gives a moan.

Immediately, I'm on edge, but I don't relent, and continue as she falls back on her hands to hold herself up, and moans desperately again.

"Does this help?" I tease and she scowls visibly.

"Shut up."

I can tell with rubbing her feet that at one time they had covered a lot of distance, possibly walking. They may look perfect on the outside, but I can feel the well trained and possibly strong heel. I run my hands gently down to the back of her foot massaging firmly but tenderly, and began to circle around her ankle. She's breathing heavier, her eyes closed in sheer bliss.

I don't know why it is, but I'm stirred beyond imagination. Her voice is softer more clear, and her face – the ecstasy on her face drives me to continue working her feet over as her arms seem to try and give way.

They're so small, I think looking down, and away from the blissful expression on Katniss' face. I'm not used to being the one to cause such an expression, and it stirs me again. I know this feeling, I'm not that big of a moron.

Or maybe I am. I have allowed myself to do the unthinkable. The one thing that is forbidden for all Careers to do. They are trained from the time they enter into the contract, and I have ripped it apart without even meaning to.

This girl, this damn _beautiful_ Girl on Fire.

I think – _no_ – I know I may be falling for her. Its just too easy. She has been the first person to be real to me. She's not fake and plastic, she's not trying to be someone she isn't.

Fuck, I'm screwed, and I know it. It seems impossible, we've known each other what – three days? Give or take, but when you can die at any time those three days easily turn into weeks and months. You don't have long to live, and I know this, and I think that I'm finally realizing my true worth to my District and Capitol.

I've always known it deep down, but its more palpable now. Even if I win, I'll always have this feeling inside of me like I've lost everything. I'll be dead inside. My sanity won't be intact if I somehow come out of this alive.

For the moment, this one girl lights a fire, and warms me. Its blinding and bright.

Its also a hopeless endeavor.

Gently, I place her foot down, trying to calm myself. She whimpers in protest, and opens one eye. I smirk when she eagerly pulls her other leg out from under her and places it on my knee. Her toes wiggle expectantly.

I pinch the middle one, and she makes a squeak and a growl sound in one. I laugh, and begin to rub. "You sure are bossy."

"You said that already."

"Just restating the fact," I say working my fingers along her skin. She's warm and inviting, and I can see the look on her face is one mixed with confusion and bliss. Its like she doesn't want to want me here, but here I am, and she's not telling me to go away.

I wish she would.

"The sponsors would fall over themselves if they saw you like this," I say to break the comfortable silence.

"They don't deserve any part of the real me," Katniss replies coolly. "But, I guess you're right."

I shake my head. Its true, but this could help her. "Just be yourself. Maybe not _this_ part of you, but you can show your determination, and the Fire you possessed during the chariot ride and when you volunteered for your sister. Let them see that you won't give up without a fight. Give them just one small piece so that they'll keep wanting to know more. Make them see you as human instead of entertainment. Make them see you."

"And if I score a 1 with the Gamemakers? What do I have then to work with."

I highly doubt she would score that low, particularly if she shows them her bow skills. I'm not used to comforting people, but it seems naturally at the moment. "If you really do score a 1, then deal with it. I doubt it though, shoot straight and they will have to score you high."

I continue rubbing her feet, but its getting harder because she's so twitchy and a little on the noisy side its causing me to react, and I'm having trouble controlling parts of me. She is currently stretched out in front of me, her head resting on the grassy knoll, and I can't help but let my eyes slide up her smooth slim legs to the small supple curve of her hips.

She is tiny, but she is very feminine at the same time. She has a natural shape, not one that may have potentially been altered surgically like Glimmer.

I feel a little too hot, and so I very gently place her feet down, and then do my best to shift, and quickly grab the jacket and lay it over my lap. No need to get a kick in the face.

Katniss is confused, by this time she's laying down on the grass, and she turns, tilting her head. "Short lived."

"I can't continue," I confess. I might as well be honest with her.

Katniss once again looks baffled, not sure why I would say something like that. I then let my eyes drop to my lap where the jacket is draped. Its almost comical when her eyes become wide and rounded like an owl, and then she flushes.

I can't help but wonder where else she is flushed. I try to wipe the thought from my mind before I lose my inability to think clearly.

Now, its tense, the comfortable silence having turned awkward. "Sorry, but I figured it was better than lying to you."

"..." Katniss says nothing, not entirely sure what to say. "This is just going to make things harder isn't it?"

I shrug as I shift, and lay down on my stomach. I move to where we are next to one another, and she can see me better. "I'm starting to realize some things that I've always known, but have been buried too long."

"That Panem is nothing but a cage? Some are gilded, and treated better as pets, and the others are cast aside to collect the scraps, but in the end we are all in the same position. We are cornered and imprisoned forced to turn on each other with the hope that we can survive, but we never really do, do we?" Katniss says looking away and staring up at the starry sky. "Look at my mentor, Cato. Look at Haymitch now. He's a Victor, but he told me that the ride didn't end the moment he's crowned. I can tell that all his hope has been sucked out, and all he's waiting for is to eventually die with some meaning. Hoping that one of his Tributes that he sends to death every single year since he's won would do him one last favor, win so he can fall in peace."

Its exactly what I've been keeping buried for so long. She says the words, and the meaning behind them is clear. "They own us." I hate it. I hate to say it because it makes it more real. I hate it because I know inside its going to kill me.

"Sure do. We are stamped and bought, and when they want they will sell us to the highest bidder." Katniss frowns, and I hate that look, so beautiful and yet so forlorn. Her face doesn't deserve that look. "What can we do? What little we have, what little we hold onto will be destroyed bit by bit if we don't play their game. My Prim and your family."

"They are already destroyed," I say before I can stop it. "My mom was killed when she refused to hand me over as a potential Tribute five years ago. I had to stand there and watch as they pulled the trigger, and then I had a choice – agree or watch as each one of my sisters, including baby Jules – one week old were taken and sold to the Capitol because of their _'perfect genetics'_."

"What do you mean by genetics?" Katniss asks me in confusion.

"Blue eyes and blonde hair are seen as the ultimate genetics, the ultimate in purity. A lot of families sell their children for big bounties to the Capitol never to be seen again as they are bought and sold."

Seeing the shock on her face, and then true disgust on my behalf warms me. I've never really talked about what happened, never saw a need. All I needed to do was survive. "What about your father?" she asks almost scared to do so.

"He was a Peacekeeper. He was killed right after my mother as he killed the Head Peacekeeper in a fit of rage for what he'd done. I had no choice, but to step up and embrace my calling. The only chance to protect what little I have left, and pretend that I forgot all about my past or that I just don't care. A lot of families in District 2 simply don't care."

"_How awful_," Katniss breaths, her eyes shining with tears. "There are times we all go hungry, and some kids are starving, but I couldn't imagine anyone in the Seam selling their children, willingly handing them over. M-my mother and Prim would have been prime then, huh?"

I think back to the little girl that was walking to the stage, and I cringe inwardly. _Yes, yes she would have been. _I don't say it because I don't have to nor do I want to.

"My father died in a mining explosion a few years ago. My mother lost her will, she was all but gone, and Prim and I were starving. I was a pained confused child, and then I remember what my father taught me, and I learned to take care of us. I became Prim's mother. I took care of her, I put food on the table, wiped her tears, and made her smile. I worked my ass off so she didn't have to take the tesserae, and yet she was called. Out of all the Seam children who didn't have someone like me to look out for them, who had to take the rations for their families or face starvation..." She shook her head. "God, if they could hear us now..."

I can only imagine. They probably wouldn't take it out on us, but our families. It would be just the thing they'd do. The perfect way to destroy us without giving up their Tributes.

We lay there together in a still silence allowing the breeze to ruffle our bodies, the midnight glow was especially appealing on Katniss, and once again I'm fighting urges that I shouldn't have.

She's shivering again, and I remember my jacket. Its lying underneath me. I pull it out, and lay it across her. She turns to me, but says nothing. She doesn't need to. In the end, I'm just a bloodthirsty Career Tribute, right? She could never fully trust me.

Could she?

It seems kind of ridiculous for me. There is no such thing as love at first sight. That's stupid to even think about, however, the Hunger Games causes a paradox, and it amplifies everything from the sense of smell to a sense of time.

One minute becomes one day, and one hour becomes a week, and so its inevitable that one day would become one month. If there were no Hunger Games, I'd probably be drawn to her as a healthy young adult male. I wouldn't have fallen for her so quickly, but watched her move. I don't quite think she understands her appeal. She has that personality that doesn't realize what she does to others, particularly those of the opposite sex.

If there were no Hunger Games, and this was just a District meet and greet, I'd probably end up falling for her, but it wouldn't be as urgent or amplified like it is now. It would take time, maybe I would ask her out, and she would smack me, and tell me to screw off.

She seems like the kind of woman who would do that. I bet she was the type that even Finnick Odair wouldn't be able to get close to. She wouldn't see the sexiest man alive as even remotely sexy. She would glare at him, eyes of steel, and tell him in no uncertain terms to fuck off. Maybe not with those words, but the message would be clear.

I like that fire, I like it too much. I wouldn't mind if it soaked me and burned me alive.

I think my twisted sense of self-worth has finally gotten to me.

Sanity is a fickle thing, and something I have very little of.


	4. Chapter 4

**4.**

**Katniss**

I'm not good at things like this. I am an ace at hunting, and can hold my own with a knife. I can barter at the Hob like its no one's business, and come away with more than I need.

But this?

I'm not good at things like this, and its made especially hard considering the Hunger Games, and the fact that I'm allowing myself to get wrapped up with a Career Tribute.

His comment when he was rubbing my feet – I can't comprehend it. I don't understand it. How am I so appealing? I'm not beautiful, I am not a swan like Glimmer. I don't have charisma or charm. I'm a Seam girl through and through.

Did I really give some sort of sexual reaction from Cato? Is that even possible? I can't imagine that I would be the least bit appealing to anyone let alone a Tribute who could possibly have anyone he chose.

Cato wasn't exactly a monster to look at. He was huge, certainly, but that only made him more appealing He didn't have a single trace of fat, muscular all the way through. He towered over six feet in height, his blonde short cut hair looked as if it should be longer, but its obvious that the stylists had chopped on it for the games. He had a very strong jawline much like Gale, but that's where the differences end. His skin is a perfect color between peach and a natural light skin shade. His eyes are a dark blue, and deep set. He had an aquiline nose that looked almost noble as were his cheekbones.

I feel odd inside as I find myself thinking about things that have never once crossed my mind. I'm entering into territory that is entirely new to me.

However, I will not be so crass as to deny what it felt like when he took my feet, and began rubbing them. Not only did the tension leave my body, but it was amazing to just lay back and allow someone to touch me. A strange sensation had overtaken me in those moments, and the more I think about it the more I understand why Cato had to stop.

… I can't believe I'm thinking this. We are laying together, and I know its at least two o' clock in the morning. Cato would open his eyes and shut them repeatedly as if he really didn't want the time to go by while sleeping.

I can't blame him. As he was talking about his family, and the life in District 2 I was saddened, shocked, and appalled.

I thought District 12 had it bad, but hearing more stories from Cato and Rue about their homes, my District sounds like a paradise.

He's stopped talking about sad things now, and is telling me about his sisters. It gives me a sense of understanding Cato more and more. He's not a Monster by his own admission. He's a Monster because they made him one. Julia was the baby, and only five years old, and then there was Cleo who was ten, and finally Alana who was the eldest of the girls, fourteen, and tasked with taking care of her little sisters while Cato was away.

I'm surprised that he was willingly telling me all these things, and my instincts were clawing at me, and not in the way one would think.

I believe him even though I shouldn't.

I don't say much back, every now and then I make a comment, but I'm careful not to say anything that could damn me like my illegal hunting habits. I can tell by now that Cato knows I hunt illegally. He made a few roundabout comments that he knew without actually saying it. What has struck me is the fact that he has yet to tell anyone that I could use a bow.

I would have expected him to trade this information with the other Careers, but he hasn't. I don't know what to think, and not sure if I want to think anything at all.

**Cato**

There was a loud uproar when the very last Tribute's score flashed across the massive screen in our temporary living quarters.

_Eleven_.

She scored an eleven. No one had scored an eleven for over ten years in the games, and while Clove was cursing and throwing things around the room in a fit of rage, and Brutus and Enobaria were in denial that some little skinny girl from District 12 could beat my score something very different was going on with me.

A pulse in my veins spiked, and the heat began to gather in places on my body. There was something infinitely sexy about that number and its association with the girl I had come to not only fall for, but know so well in the last few days that one would think I'd known her all my life.

Maybe I did know her, and just hadn't had a chance to meet her. Not that it makes any sense to anyone else, but it does to me. Its my brain after all.

She scored a whole point higher than me. Not only did I want to know how she did it, but I want to see her face. I want to see what she did. Not because I know it would give me an advantage in the Arena. I already know she can shoot straight, and she must have shot straight enough to impress the Gamemakers.

As I was in my thoughts I didn't realize that everyone was staring at me, and I must have this crazy smirk on my face because I'm being looked at oddly by Enobaria. Clove looks as if she is about to throw another tantrum. At one time I probably would have thrown the same tantrum she was doing, but because this is Katniss who scored that eleven, I find that some of that girl's fire has made its way inside of me.

"What?" I finally ask shortly.

"You're taking this all rather well." Enobaria is looking at me expectantly.

"Why wouldn't I? It only means that my assumptions were right about her from the beginning." I love the look on Brutus and Clove's face. I couldn't quite read Enobaria, but then no one really could. "I always knew she wasn't one to be ignored."

"Oh please, some stupid girl from a poor pathetic district. What did she do? Light herself on fire?" Clove sneered in disgust. "She couldn't have earned that Eleven on her own. No fucking way."

I find myself enraged with Clove's badmouthing of Katniss. I want to lash out, but I do my best to keep it under control. No need to hint at my true feelings for fear of what Clove would try and do to Katniss in the Arena.

One false move, and the Mentors might change their ideas of me being the winning Tribute.

The interviews live on stage would be tonight, and so I wouldn't get a chance to see Katniss before hand. I doubt she'd tell me, but I'd like to have a hint as to what she did to garner such praise from the Gamemakers.

As I sit down on the comfortable soft bed, I can't help but think that in another life, the games are gone, and the districts are able to mingle I might have never met her. She would be one speckle of thousands.

I wouldn't know her and wouldn't have the chance to be attracted to her or her fiery personality.

In a life where I didn't have to eat and breath training for the Hunger Games, I imagine that I would want someone like her in my life.

One part of me wishes that this girl's sister had never been called, but then the other part, the one that is naturally selfish to the core tells me that the Hunger Games has brought more into my life in the last few days than ever before, even if it does end in bloodshed.

The hours tick away before my ridiculous looking Prep Team come for me. They don't have to do much, but some of the hair on my chin is growing back, and they're prepared to make sure that it doesn't.

I'm dressed in a silver/dove gray well tailored suit. I think about how it reminds me of Katniss' eyes as I'm turned by the shoulder. I don't fight it because the less I do the more I have to think about what kind of trouble I'm getting myself into. The shirt underneath is so starch white that its blinding, and a tie is held loosely around my neck. It isn't tied, its meant to look lazy and as if I didn't give a shit.

It fits me, I think as my stylist tries to put makeup on me. _Try_ being the keyword because I refuse, and am equally annoyed when I'm doused in cologne.

What was he trying to do? Kill the other Tributes with my smell? It burned my nose and throat. I can taste it, and it makes me want to gag.

"That's enough," I order, and the Stylist, an over the hill man trying to look too young fearing for his life rushes from the room as if his life depended on it. It had because now I have blinding headache. I rub my temples as I leave the room. Clove is nowhere to be seen. A small miracle because I cannot stand even a moment of her unfounded hatred toward Katniss.

"Don't you look handsome," Enobaria purrs coming up to press a wrinkle out of my shirt. "You'll steal the crowd for sure. Go out there, and be fierce – don't give an inch. You are ready and willing – a machine oiled for killing."

Brutus is behind her, his arms crossed. He is also wearing a very nice suit, but it doesn't look like it belongs on him. He looks as if he should be in the Roman getup instead, with a sword in his hand and poised for a fight. A gladiator, I think as some of the few history lessons come back to me. He is a bald headed man, and as such his head looks as big as his body – and that's pretty big.

I however have a good three inches in height on him. We've never really had a conversation, and I think he's gotten attached to Clove because when she steps out in her evening gown, his eyes flicker with a light. Her stylist had somehow made her look slimmer than she appears, her hair was knotted on her head in a fancy sort of way, and her face is glowing from the piles of makeup on it.

She didn't look all that natural, but even Enobaria was cooing over her, and that was scary for a woman with fanged teeth.

I'm now wondering if Brutus is secretly training Clove to kill me and take the crown for herself. This has caused me to pause, I have never once thought like this before, but now – _now_ I'm wondering if all this preparation wasn't a hoax toward me. I wonder if they are playing on my lack of intelligence, getting me to trust Clove infinitely with my life, knowing that she will protect me, and then at the last minute take me down like a dog.

I turn away before the others can guess what I'm thinking. I bet they don't, everyone thinks I'm an idiot. I'm beginning to understand clearly why Katniss doesn't think so.

Katniss thinks I'm smart.

All along it is me who never thought about my own intelligence. I've been trained and told what to do, bowing to authority, fighting and killing, learning the ways of a real warrior of how to accept the honor of killing.

_Killing children,_ the Katniss angel on my shoulder.

I imagine even if she isn't here that she is sitting on my shoulder, pint-sized with her braided hair, and she's whispering prophetic truths for my brain to wrap around.

They're planning _against_ me. Is that what they've been doing this whole time while I've been basking and relishing the idea of coming home? Clove insisting that she needs to know everything in order to protect _me_.

Did they know that my feelings and emotions weren't squashed? Did they know this, and decide to play it to their advantage? Did they think I would get attached to Clove the longer we were in the Arena together, fighting tooth and nail to stay alive. I would come to count on her in ways I could never imagine.

I'd come to care about her.

And then, when the moment strikes, the moment we will both know that I have a chance of winning, she'll slice my throat when she's supposed to be watching my back while I'm sleeping off whatever hell the other Tributes throw at me.

Yes, I would come to care about her. I might even come to love her over a period of time. I would not want to leave her. They knew I would because I have three baby sisters at home, and they were going to play on my weakness.

So, I never had a chance to begin with did I?

I'm infuriated now. My hands are beginning to shake, and the anger inside of me bubbling to the surface. I'm about to kill them; a blood red haze shades over me, and I begin to take a step forward, as if to take Clove in a choke hold, and keep her there until her last breath.

Her eyes then turn on me, and she beams. "Not bad, handsome!" Clove teases.

I stop short, realizing that I may be able to kill everyone in this room given the chance, but all three together with Brutus and Enobaria against me, I wouldn't stand a chance. I'm at my limit. I have to get out of here before I do something stupid.

_'Don't let them know you know,'_ says the angel Katniss on my shoulder. _'Use it against them.'_

And I do. I use it against them, and play it cool. "Not bad, Clove. Didn't know you could clean up so nicely," I tease with a cocky smirk.

She's blushing now, and Enobaria and Brutus share a look, and that's when I confirm the truth.

They are planning on sacrificing me, and making Clove the winner. I see it in her playful eyes, the demeanor she uses. She doesn't see me as a threat. She never saw me as one because she like the rest of them knew my weakness, and were going to exploit it.

That's why she hated Katniss so much. Not because of her fantastic display, but because Clove has finally realized that Katniss Everdeen could be her true adversary. The one to take her down in the middle of the night.

And me? I will help her because Katniss has done something so simple that no one in my world has ever done.

She actually sees me as a human being. A human worth something. I never gave it much thought until now as we head over to the elevator that would take us up to where the interviews would be held in front of the City Circle.

I guess the games have already started without me being any wiser. Well, shame on them, won't they be surprised? I'm not going to play their game.

We are soon seated under the arc, and there are twenty four seats, one for each Tribute. I'm sitting on the fourth chair as the female Tribute always goes first. I lock my fingers together, and lean forward, elbows on my knees as I think about all the information I gleamed.

Our mentors have disappeared now, and were likely taking their seats in the front row of the audience. I can hear the crowd, cheering and roaring before it even begins. There's only a small flicker of light where we're sitting.

Glimmer and Marvel are there. Marvel is captivated by the sight of Glimmer, and its obvious that sex was going to be her key strategy in procuring Sponsors. Maybe, she wasn't as stupid as I've thought.

She doesn't seem to be trying to catch my attention anymore so swept up in the excitement of appearing on stage for all of Panem to see her at her best.

More Tributes are rising from the elevator, filing out one by one. The Tributes from 3 to 11, and I spot the little girl that Katniss is so attached to wearing a shiny gown with wings attached to her back. I can now see what Katniss saw. Just a little girl, near the age of Cleo.

My brain was unwinding from all the conditioning I've had to take over the years. Normally, I would see her as a piece of meat, prey under my fingertips. Now, I see her as just a baby. She was someone's precious daughter.

_Imagine if she was your daughter,_ the angel Katniss on my shoulder says to me. I grit my teeth. If I won, and had children in the future they would be taken as Career Tributes, conditioned the exact same way I was.

The girl from 11 looks at me then, and she beams, and its bright and blinding. She shouldn't be smiling at me, the Monster of District 2, but she does. I incline my head, but nothing more in case Clove is watching, but she isn't. She's wrapped up in her own self to pay any attention.

I'm about to turn away when a spark in the direction of the girl catches me off guard, and when I turn to focus on the cause of the spark, my brain fries on the spot.

Its like the world suddenly darkens, and all that is alight is the District 12 Girl on Fire, and Fire she is. She had been transformed into the Goddess of Fire. Her dress wrapped around her curves are shimmering with precious gems of red and orange with hints of blue and white. She had flame etches along her arms, and she shimmered causing every other girl in the room to dim.

Her hair was a pool of ringlets around her face, and it makes her glow. She looks like a candle, and its burning so very brightly. I'm at a complete loss for words, and I know I'm not the only one.

The attention on Glimmer's rounded curves are all but ignored by every male Tribute, even the quiet distant brute boy from 11 is staring at her.

It's obvious she doesn't realize the attention she has garnered as she nervously sits in her chair, and trying but failing to sit like a lady should. My lips twitch in amusement when her gaze finds me. Is that red on her cheeks or is it from the dress? I give her a wink, I can't help it. I'd love to go and talk to her, but I know better.

Clove makes a gurgling noise in the back of her throat from beside me. "I _hate_ her." And she means it as she hisses it, and I can almost feel the spray of spit.

She is lighting a fire inside of me, and even when Caesar Flickerman prances onto the stage with the roaring crowd, and brilliant flooding light as if it were day and not night, I still can't take my eyes off Katniss Everdeen.

She's not the girl on fire, she's the girl that burns.

I play up the murderous monster on stage, and the crowd eats right into it. I can't let my mentors think that I have already figured out their plans because if I do, things might change, and I won't have the upper hand.

By the time District 11 is through with their interviews, I sit up straighter when Katniss is called, and I watch as she sashays toward the stage, her dress flickering and glowing. She looks slightly unsteady in heels, and then I remember when she complained about them.

She's taken by Caesar who is beaming, and compliments her dress. Katniss gives her thanks, but insists that it was Cinna's doing, and not hers.

Already, the crowd loves her. They see her as humble and graceful.

"So, Katniss, the Capitol must be a big change for you from District 12. What's impressed you the most since you've arrived?"

Katniss looks nervous as she places her hands in her lap as she answers. "The people of course, they are so inviting, and kind," she says to the audience causing a round of 'awe' to come from them all. "I thank you all for making me feel so welcome." She waves at them, and they call back out to her. Someone in the audience asks her to marry him, but its drowned out by laughter.

Caesar Flickerman is eating it up. He asks her what has changed since her coming to the Capitol. She shrugs. "More culture maybe? Not sure yet, lets wait and see if I survive before answering that honestly." She winks at the crowd, and they go crazy again.

Caesar beams. "Indeed, indeed young lady!" He's holding her hand, and patting it fondly. "Now, tell me about the opening parade, what were you thinking about when you came out on the chariot?"

Katniss gives a soft laugh. "I wondered if my lovely Stylist had lost his mind, and I was going to burn to death." The crowd is laughing even more now. "So, I didn't really have time to think too much more than that."

"Yes, that was an amazing display of pyrotechnics! Tell me, how do you feel about your competition in the games? You scored an amazing eleven, and all of us want to know more about it! It must have been quite a display. What can you tell us?"

"Not sure if I'm allowed to."

"No! You're not!" cries out a ponchy Gamemaker..

Katniss gives them a playful look. "Well, lets just say I think I'm a first to do what I did. So sorry my boys," she calls to them, "but attention is everything, isn't it?"

She has the gamemakers eating out of the palm of her hand, and I can't blame them. Several of them are already smitten with her, and even Seneca Crane, the Head Gamemaker is smiling at her fondly. The fact that she said, 'my' as if to say they are hers, and she could be theirs isn't lost on me.

The roar of people is in even more anticipation, desperately wanting to know what she did to impress them, and Caesar is probably enjoying himself more now than he ever has with the rest of us as Tributes, and it shows.

"Now, Katniss, I hate to bring up painful things, but I have to ask – about your sister. What happened?"

Katniss' smile drops, and a haunted expression crosses her features. She doesn't answer for a moment, and the crowd goes quiet. She seems to be contemplating something. "My sister Prim is only twelve, she's the sweetest thing in the world, and wouldn't hurt a fly. I raised her after my father died in a mining accident, and so she's practically my daughter. She's a born healer, not a fighter, Caesar. She's made me who I am today."

She seals it with that, a soft smile that captures the attention of all of Panem.

"And – did she see you before you went off to the train?"

"Yes, she did."

"And what did she say to you?"

"She told me to win."

"And what did you say to that?"

"I told her I would."

"And indeed you shall try, Katniss Everdeen everyone, the Girl on Fire!" He roars, and then she stands, and he asks her to twirl, and when she does the whole bottom of her dress lights into flames, dazzling and enrapturing the audience.

Caesar is beside himself with excitement. He's her favorite, and there's a chance that she has just taken every last sponsor from all the other Tributes.

Looking around, I'm not the only one who is thinking this. Glimmer has a look of loathing, and Clove was spitting acidic insults under her breath. However, there are those who are intrigued by her words, and seem to see something else underneath it.

What it is, I can't begin to decipher.

All I know is I have to see her tonight. One last time before we go to the Arena. I give her a look until she notices my gaze. I raise my eyes to the ceiling as if trying to convey the roof. She gives me the smallest of nods, and my heart skips a beat.

**Katniss**

I wasn't meant to say all of that on stage with Caesar, but I was tired of everyone telling me I had no likability factor. It was pissing me off, and then Cato and Cinna seemed to like me, and both men are completely different from one another.

At first, I thought there was something wrong with me when Haymitch told me I was unlikable, and Effie groused about how the crowd was going to eat me alive. I decided to take it as a challenge, and stick it back to them.

Boy, were they surprised, Haymitch was looking at me as if he didn't know me.

I also saw this as an opportunity to get in the good graces of the Gamemakers. After my spectacle with the apple, I knew that I could easily be a target for their sadistic entertainment, and I knew I should nip that in the bud, play off like I was completely on their side.

It was easy after that, and when Caesar asked me about my sister, I thought about the only way I could keep the Capitol away from her was to make an impression on how much I care about her making the audience love her without ever knowing her.

I remember Cinna saying try to give a little piece of myself to the audience. I didn't want to, I really didn't. These people were rallying around my death, but I also realized as the Tributes went up one by one to appeal to the audience that each one was focusing on one particular trait, and that's all the Capitol saw.

_A sexy woman. _

_Fierce warrior. _

_A sly fox. _

_Innocent child. _

It was all one dimensional, and if I had even a shred of hope in defeating a Beauty Queen like Glimmer, and the rich district of 2, I would have to give them more than one dimension.

Having spent time with Cato these last few nights have taught me something that Haymitch could never teach. He taught me to grit my teeth and bare it, give them what they want because once in the Arena, I'll need them.

I hate knowing this, but its also an eye opener. I didn't appear as weak, but determined. A young lady who makes a promise, and doesn't break that promise. I also showed them the real me, the one who fights back instead of runs.

They feel I can win, and let them feel that because the more they put their odds on me, the more likely I can get out of the arena alive.

Without even knowing it, I owe Cato a debt because he taught me to stop running away, and face what is thrown at me. Its true that its the Capitol's fault for putting me in the situation by calling Primrose's name, but its also their ignorance thanks to the one man controlling it all.

Like Cato when he was faced with training as a Career or his family destroyed, he chose the option that best fit the score, and he didn't run.

I won't run either.

Haymitch was astounded by my easy display, and willing to speak with the crowds. The fact that I went so far to endear myself to the Gamemakers was not lost on him.

Effie however was cooing over how all the lessons I had finally paid off. I scoffed. "Your lessons did nothing but piss me off," I scowl.

"There's the girl I know so well," Haymitch roared as Cinna came over to congratulate me and give me a hug.

Peeta had used his humor and way with words to endear himself with the crowd, and when Caesar had asked what he thought of me, he had said that '_she's incredible, and she has no idea what she does to me or the other boys, none. You should see them back home, in District 12. She doesn't see it though.'_

I don't know what that meant, but it got a whole host of reactions from the audience. I hope they don't think Peeta is in love with me. That's the last thing I need.

I'm already climbing out of my heels, and heading for my room. I want to be more myself before I meet Cato on the roof tonight.

A rush of something odd courses through me as I think about our nightly meetings. I feel as if I understand Cato, and even understand the way he acted on stage. He like me is also playing a game, we all are. A dangerous game that can take our lives.

I think sometimes that his game is more insidious than the one I'm forced to play. He has three little lives on the line that could be killed by his own district at any time.

Peeta looks put out by something, and what it is I don't know, and I don't have time to examine him. He's going to soon become an enemy, and I've already got several weaknesses going into the Arena tomorrow.

Rue being one of them, and Cato. I don't know if I can kill Cato. He could kill me, but I don't think I could do that unless I had to.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

**Cato**

Clove is still having fits over Katniss' presentation. "What a fake sewer rat! _My little sister is everything to me_," she mocked in disgust. "_My daddy died in an explosion, wah wah, sponsor me!_" She doesn't look the least bit attractive with the way she's making faces, and ranting to Brutus and Enobaria as we are sat in front of the TV watching a recap.

Enobaria has a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry so much, darling. You have all the advantages. She won't stand a chance."

I want to snort, and argue that point, but I don't let my guard down. I can see Brutus watching me out of the corner of his eye as if he's waiting for me to react, and so instead of ramming Clove's head into a wall, I decide to goad her a little bit.

"I don't know, Clove, she seemed pretty damn convincing to me," I say coolly as I pretend to play boredom while watching the interviews.

Clove turns on me angrily, and Enobaria is frowning heavily at my reaction. "_Puh-lease_! I could slice her throat so easily, just give me a chance..."

Not likely, but I said nothing as I smirk. "She'd still look hot, either way."

That made her even more angry, Enobaria sighed. "Don't get her started again, Cato."

I shrug carelessly. "At least I'll have some competition in this Hunger Games. All the others look so easy and weak. Not even worth my time."

"Oh, and you think some skinny little bitch from a coal district will be any better, do you?" Clove sneered. "I've seen the way you look at her."

"What healthy man wouldn't?" I continue cryptically, fully aware of the hot water I'm stepping into. "You do know she has the upper hand, don't you? When have you ever seen an ugly Victor?" I have this unusually vicious smirk, and it causes her to swell like a ruffled peacock, but without the pretty feathers. "It's no coincidence."

I feel a sick sort of hatred for this group because they are now looking at me with those eyes, the type of eyes that tell me I'm not coming back from the Hunger Games. Clove has this odd smug look on her face that is barely concealed.

Do they really think I'm that stupid? This is why I goaded them, I wanted to see for myself if my assumptions were right.

And I am. "I think I'm done. She was after all – the only one worth watching," I say rising from my position.

"I am going to kill her with my own two hands," Clove hisses to her mentors. "Just to prove she is a worthless pitiful girl. I'll cut her!"

Not if I cut you first, I think slamming the door to my bedroom. I take a deep breath as I try to calm down from my sudden high, but its hard.

I'm boiling with rage, and a vase nearby gets smashed to the ground. Luckily, everyone is used to my tantrums so they don't even bother to check in on me, knowing good and well what would happen if they did.

Later that night, I see her sitting on the balcony swinging her feet. Her hair in a bunched braid, and its wet. No more gaudy makeup, and she still looks fiery and beautiful in my eyes. I take a second to stand there and watch her. All the rage I felt earlier that night is dwindling with ease.

She's swinging her bare feet, her slim legs exposed, and I can't help but let my eyes trace upwards. She's wearing the same outfit as last night.

She's shivering now because of the cold, and I move on my feet as she turns to gaze at me instead of the starry sky. I hold out the jacket, and she takes it with a small smile.

"You were brilliant tonight."

"You were ruthless," she says back to me.

"Had to be. I initially had a different plan, but then I was made aware of something, and if I didn't stick to the plan, I will no longer have the upper hand."

Katniss is looking at me now. "What are you talking about?"

I doubt she'd believe me, but I can't hold it back anymore. My anger is spiking once more, and the look must have been obvious because her eyes are wide now as I growl under my breath. I start to pace, my hands are balling into fists, and then I release them. I have this urge to rip something apart.

I tell her my revelation, and about how District 2 works when it comes to the Tributes. To her credit, she doesn't speak, and listens to me describing what I believe to be a deception. I let all my anger out, and I don't realize I have turned over potted plants when I get to the part that no matter what I do my family won't be safe because right from the start I was always going to be a sacrifice.

I continue my bitching until I'm left breathless, face flush with fury, and I flinch when Katniss is suddenly in front of me. "Don't, _please_, I – I don't want to hurt you," I manage to say as I'm clawing my hair, pulling on the thin short strands. "Not you." I've been trained to attack, and with my blind rage, I fear what could happen.

She takes my wrists, and she's not in the least bit afraid of me like everyone else. Clove won't even come near me when I'm having one of my rages, and I freeze as she brings them down. Her hands are cool and inviting, and lets my blood pressure drop just enough for me to get my breathing under control. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't say these things, you won't believe me – you have no reason to believe me, but-"

"Shut up, Cato," Katniss orders, and I do shut up because what else can I do? "Come on, sit down." Both of us go down to the ground, she curls her legs to the side, and then pulls my head down to her lap. I feel the warmth of her smooth legs against my cheek, and I lay there after my fit, calm and soothed.

"They would have been right," I say in a hollow voice. "She would have grown on me, and I couldn't do _anything_ if I did that. All this time, I thought it was me they were going to save, I thought I had protected my family."

Katniss is running her fingers across my rigid brow, and it feels so unearthly good. I feel all my anger seeping out little by little under her touch.

"I should know that these games are meant to screw with everyone's minds, but I had no idea – I had no clue they started before the Arena."

"Haymitch told me they began the moment of the Reaping," she tells me as her fingertips begin to comb through my hair. I take in a deep breath, close my eyes, and enjoy the tickling sensation of her short nails. I've never been touched in such a gentle way before, I forgot what it felt like. No one outside of my sisters have ever done anything affectionate. "He told me that even if you become victor, the games continue for the rest of your life. He looks so haunted all the time, and his drinking is no coincidence."

"We're nothing but numbers, no matter the district in the end, and there's nothing we can do about it," I confess feeling for the first time in years like I want to start crying. "If we try to rebel they won't hurt us, but our families, but then – haven't they already done that?"

Katniss' hand stills on my head as she takes in my words.

"Dragging us as children, and trained to kill other children? The outlying districts made to starve, and never get a chance at a decent life, and the people of the Capitol, gave up their intelligence and sanity, and for what? Our misery. Isn't that what you were telling me? I see that perspective now. Our families have already suffered."

"..."

"We keep going on and fighting because we don't know any other way. Is dying really so awful compared to a place like this?" I can't help my words, the ache and pain deep inside trembles me to the bone. I feel lost and disoriented, helpless.

"Don't say that," Katniss chastised me.

"What do we know? What do I know? We're just lapdogs for the Capitol's entertainment. We're glorified slaves, and breeding fodder. That is all we are."

"_Ssh_!" Katniss hisses, and then she pinches my lips, and I can't help but smile. They're so soft and slim. It feels good.

"I know there's something wrong with me. One part of me loves the idea of hurting others, and the other, the one you awakened the night I spoke to you for the first time has reminded me of who I used to be. I feel as if I've already lost my family. I bet the Head Trainers have informed the Peacekeepers that I wasn't coming home. I wonder if they've kicked my sisters out, sent them to the community home or sold them at the highest price to the Capitol..." I'm choking for air now at the very thought of it.

The horror filling me like a balloon, and its ready to burst, and when it does I'm not entirely sure what's going to come out of it. I feel twisted knots in my stomach, and my heart burns toxic as if a poison has made its way in me.

I feel like I want to curl up and die, this feeling as if no air could get to me.

Katniss is at a loss for words, I don't blame her. I didn't mean to break down, I swear I didn't. I tell her this without looking at her. I don't realize I'm gripping her knee until she makes a flinching movement. I see it, and remove it. "S-sorry."

"Ssh, its okay. I – I understand loss all too well, but don't count yourself out just yet," Katniss says firmly. "Never count yourself out until its over."

I hear her words, but I don't feel them. She's being kind to me, a District 2 Career. I'm everything that she is supposed to despise. She seems to know that its not helping because she continues on in a soft clipped voice.

"Losing my father very nearly killed me. He was my whole world, he taught me everything I know. How to get food and how to survive. We used to spend all Sunday together, the only day he didn't work in the coal mines. I lost him, and I lost the will to go on even though I had Prim. Mom had gone off into another world, and she barely got out of bed. She sat by while Prim and I were starving, our cheekbones becoming hollow, and our stomachs turning on us. I was near death – so very close to it. I couldn't wake up out of the haze of my father's death, and then one day a boy showed me kindness, gave me food. I realized then that I had to go on, I had to feed my family. I had to do what my mother didn't. I'd rather take a bullet to the head for taking care of my family than die of hunger. There is no greater death than that feeling of hollowness."

I listen to her story, and I'm aware of all that she has revealed to me. She's a strong survivor, and has gone all this time taking care of not only herself, but her family as well. I've never had to want for food, but I have wished when I was younger that I still had my mother and father, particularly during the days when times got rough.

Julie crying because I'm not paying enough attention to her, Cleo jealous because of what little attention I can spare the baby of the family, and Alana watching on with a sense of helplessness.

Her story strengthens me. "You're very strong. You can win the Hunger Games."

"Doubtful."

"Yes, yes you can. I can help you," I say with renewed energy. I sit up then, my head is spinning, and I'm feeling a little dizzy, but my mind for the first time in years is clear.

I see now what I can do. "My family is gone."

"No, they're not. They're back in District 2 waiting for you," Katniss admonished. "Besides, I've got a promise from someone who will take care of Prim if I die. I can die happy as long as I do well enough."

"You won't die. You're too strong."

"I can say the same for you. So, don't make me mad."

I laugh quietly at her words, and shake my head. "I want you to win. I think it would be great... you deserve to come out alive. I don't want you to change."

"I don't think I have a choice in that matter. I do know one thing though, I won't let the Capitol use me anymore. I'm fighting back, and its thanks to you that I am."

I'm surprised by this, and look at her oddly. "Me?"

"Yeah, you reminded me that I can't be running when I have so much at stake. Dying is not running, its facing what is given to me head on, and not being afraid. You are right that the Capitol has already hurt our families, if not physically then mentally and emotionally. If we run, we're executed or we're turned into Avoxes." She has this look on her face as if she knows an Avox personally.

"You speak from experience."

She shakes her head, not commenting further about that. "I talked about Prim today in hopes of the Capitol audience falling so in love with her that she will become untouchable. That was my main goal."

I smile because I already knew that. "I think it worked."

"I hope so."

"Tomorrow, I'm going to break away from my alliance after I secure supplies and weapons from the Cornucopia. You don't have to trust me or believe me, but I won't harm a single hair on your head if you approach me. I'll have your bow to if its there. I'm sure it is, they seemed smitten enough with you."

She's looking at me in shock now. "Well, I guess shooting an arrow at them can do that..."

I laugh out loud at her comment until my stomach hurts. I am suddenly truly happy. How can that be possible? I go from near suicidal to delight in seconds. "Y-you seriously shot an arrow at them?"

"Well, I shot it at an apple in the pig's mouth that they were paying so much attention to instead of me," said Katniss with a scowl. "Made me mad, here I am forced to become entertainment fodder for them, and they can't spare me a minute's glance."

I'm in fits now as I hunch over, and I swear the entire tower can hear me laughing. I don't give a fuck, its just too good to be true. "You _are_ the girl on fire! I thought _my_ temper was bad..."

"I'm more direct," says Katniss with a quirk of her lip. "About tomorrow, we'll see what happens. I don't plan on being near the bloodbath."

I look at her beautiful face, and I'm struck dumb at how she looks under the starry night sky. Her face, she's so pure unlike some girls I know. "I didn't think for a moment you were as stupid as me."

We sat together under the copse of the night, and for one small moment I believe everything is going to be alright. I'm fooled into believing it, but I know what happens come tomorrow.

I will kill everything in my path.

I will turn into the monster that I'm designed to be, but when they least suspect it, I will turn on them. Katniss might not even be able to look at me tomorrow the same way when she sees the real me.

**Katniss**

I can feel a dynamic changing between Cato and me. I wonder if he knows it to. I don't know how to deal with this, I have never been one of those social butterflies. I'm not like Peeta. I don't give out smiles to everyone, and laughing becomes even harder. I have a difficult time sparking conversation, and need to be prompted. I'm not classy like Madge Undersee, and I'm not bold like Delly Cartwright.

I am me, a Hunter and a big sister. I don't know how to be anything else, and yet here I am getting myself closer and closer to a Career Tribute. I don't even know his last name, I don't know anything about him except that we come from two different worlds, and he is so completely unlike me.

Yet, at the same time we are alike. Both of us are a force when it comes to our tempers. I don't break things, I internalize until I run cold. Cato sends his temper outwards, and the poor beautiful potted vases have suffered for it.

From his temper tantrum, I can see that the people in District 2 really did screw with his mind. He has a hard time assimilating to what is real and what is not.

I'm not afraid of him like I should be. My instincts aren't clawing at me to back away. I always rely on them, often times I rely on my gut rather than logic because to me, logic doesn't always make sense.

Gale and Cato are quite similar. Gale rails and rails at the Capitol when we are knee deep in the woods. All the treasonous things he says, and then some. He doesn't destroy anything but himself when he does this.

Cato is different. I feel that he won't hurt me. I know this is stupid, I know that I shouldn't give him an inch. I told myself I wouldn't, but seeing the monstrous boy break down into a fit. That cannot be constructed, it can't be pretend. He is not faking it. No one can fake fury, frustration, and tears that well. I hear the fear lingering at the end of each syllable. A fear I recognize all too well.

I hear him talk about what little family he has, his little sisters, Julia, Cleo, and Alana. I'd like to meet them. Maybe they'd get along with Prim. She'd love to have more friends. She wouldn't care where they came from. She would love them like she loves that ugly smash faced cat.

I bet Cato would love her to. She's probably have him wrapped around her finger in a matter of minutes.

I didn't plan to comfort Cato. I'm not good at that unless its Prim, but I had moved as if on autopilot until he's lying in my lap, and I'm stroking him. He's feverish from the anger and sadness, his thoughts very nearly suicidal. I try my best to wash them away.

The Capitol and President Snow are to blame for this, for shattering children all across Panem. Maybe this world needs an uprising. Maybe a rebellion is in order, but who would start it?

I don't think I have the courage to do it. Prim and my mother would always be in the back of my mind. All the people I care about in District 12 from Greasy Sae to Darius the Peacekeeper.

Gale.

Gale would love my thoughts. I wonder if he'd get along with Cato?

I hear his laugh when I explain in depth of what happened with the Gamemakers. I know its supposed to be a secret, but he already knows I can shoot. Well, in for a squirrel in for a deer, I muse, and his laughter makes it worth it.

I'm delighted. I made him laugh, and its a real one. It reaches into his deep blue eyes, and I'm struck then with a thought. I wouldn't mind making him laugh more often.

That's not a side to me that I thought existed. I feel warm around him as if I can be myself. Its like Gale, but not at the same time. I haven't really had these odd giddy moments with my hunting partner. I feel excitement being around Cato as if something interesting is bound to happen.

I suppose I am one of those people who have a hard time with the mundane. Maybe that's why I hunt. When you're hunting nothing is predictable. One day I'm being chased by a pack of rapid dogs, and the next I'm fishing, and have to fight for my fish against a black bear for a meal.

Oh, imagine if I could take down a black bear? I'd need about twenty of my blunt arrows to do the job, and then I risk puncturing parts of the beast that would taint the meat.

How would I drag that back to the Hob? Gale wouldn't be able to, maybe I could talk Darius into helping?

I realize I have gone completely off track with my thoughts, and I laugh out loud before I can stop myself. Cato looks at me, curious as to my laughter.

"Did I say something funny?"

I shake my head. "No, I was thinking about hunting, and how unpredictable it is. Kind of like this, our situation. I wondered if I ever actually took down a black bear how would I get it back?"

Cato arched an eyebrow at this. "Have you ever?"

I shake my head again. "It'd be a waste of arrows, and I'd fear severing something vital that would contaminate the meat."

"... I didn't know there was such a strategy in Hunting for food." Cato looks truly confused. It was obvious that amongst all his training, survival wasn't one of them.

"Kill it wrong, and the whole thing is a waste. It'll poison and kill you." Each word I say I know I could be damning myself for all of eternity, but I'm talking, and I can't stop. I tell Cato about a few of my experiences, and he listens intently, and the look on his faces urges me on.

It feels so nice to talk to someone finally, tell them something. I don't feel vulnerable or weakened, I feel strengthened and renewed. These games are designed to drive a wedge between districts, keep one another from fully trusting each other. Everyone is a victim, and everyone is a murderer.

Maybe my act of rebellion could be something so small as to trust another person that doesn't come from where I come from. I give it some thought, and I don't voice this aloud in case I'm wrong.

Tomorrow would be the day, we were going in, and most of us were not going to come out.

"What is your last name?" I ask remembering my earlier thoughts before hunting took over my mind.

Cato is surprised by the question. "Technically, its Mathias, but once you are taken as a future Tribute you drop your last name. They think it gives nobility and an air of importance if you have no associations with anyone else in the district."

How odd, I think. I guess its kind of like marrying, the wife drops her name for the husbands. That I don't know if I like, but I do like my last name. I love Everdeen, and I couldn't imagine not having it associated with me.

I guess Haymitch would tell me that's another part of me that's undesirable. I'm exactly what he didn't want going into these games aren't I? Too damn bad because Prim is out of the question.

I know I should go in, and get some sleep. The games are tomorrow, but I know that won't be possible. I'm too wired, too scared, and too far gone into my mind to even think of drifting off.

Cato seems to be thinking along these lines, and we let the cool summer air wash over us as we spend our last night death free.

"If you hate me tomorrow, I want to thank you for these last few nights," Cato says after an hour of silence. I'm startled by this, and turn to look at him. The pain on his face, the haunting. "They've been the best I've ever had."

It takes me a minute to find my words, and I choose them carefully. "The only person I can hate are the ones who started the Hunger Games, and those who keep it alive."

Cato then does something unexpected, something I should have moved away from, but I let it. He leans in closer, and presses a burning hot kiss to the side of my cheek.

I'm smoldered in the heat, and my whole body is ignited like the opening night on the chariots except the flame seems real. I close my eyes, and instead of kissing his cheek back as I'm too shell-shocked, I do manage to run my fingernails across his hard set jawline.

As slow as he moved, it seemed almost too fast because he's up now, towering over me. His eyes holding something I cannot decipher. "Goodnight Kat."

I don't fight the nickname. I don't yell at him or threaten his life. I just watch as he leaves the roof, leaving me all alone.

I'm also still burning.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for the feedback. I really appreciate it. I have fully written 8 chapters of this story so far, and I'll keep updating regularly. I'm quickly getting attached to this story, I look forward to getting up and writing. So thank you readers! =)


	6. Chapter 6

**!Warning:! Possible Triggers as from this point on, Character Death! I'm not very good with violence, and so I worked really hard on it. Some characters you may or may not love will die in this story. It'll be the only warning so please heed it when you proceed! Rating changed to M.**

**I don't want to give away what I have planned and what I've written. I just don't want anyone to be uncomfortable or upset because as it stands, anything can happen when its the Hunger Games. Anyone can die. **

6.

_Step by step, heart to heart, left right left  
We all fall down... _

**Cato**

The wind is crisp and cool, the sky is a brilliant blue, and the clouds move lazily across the open sky. The smell of pine was enchanting, and on one side was a beautiful copse of trees, a forest that one could run in for miles. Behind them was a cliff that dove off into a field of what looked like wheat of many colors. If this was any other day, I would smile, kick back, and relax as I make shapes out of them.

But, this isn't that kind of day. In an even circle of the Arena every single Tribute is standing on a raised metal plate, and they are waiting as a countdown ticker above the golden horn of harvest begins to count backwards from 60. Its soon 50, and I'm gazing around at all my enemies, all the girls and boys I'm going to kill, and then they stop.

I see Katniss, and her eyes are drawn to mine, but she looks away swiftly as she tries to brace herself for what is to come.

_40 seconds left. _

I watch her scan the mountain of valuable objects, and they land on a brilliant gleaming bow of silver with a quiver full of arrows. Damn, its too far in for her to grab. She knows this I can tell. I give her the smallest of nods when she looks back at me.

_30 seconds left. _

My heart is pounding, the blood rising from the depths of their veins, and I feel it all around me. My eyes could be turning red for all I know. Doubtful, but the imagery is there.

Clove is on the other side, and she's grinning maniacally. The only thing I'm sure of about her is that she is not as fast as Katniss.

_20 seconds left. _

Glimmer is poised on the metal plate, she isn't hunched over and ready to run. She looks as if for all the world that she will be safe. She probably will be for a while. A lot of the males would think twice because of her looks. She's also probably confident that anyone attempting to attack her will be dead beforehand. Marvel will have her back, at least until the end.

She can kill, there's a monster behind that beautiful face if I ever saw one.

_10 seconds left_.

The Arena is buzzing, and the emotions are high, static electricity flowing heavily from one to the next. I see the young girl that I'm supposed to protect for Katniss. I think about how if this was anyone else, they would ask to be spared, but no, she wanted Rue to be spared from the worst of it. I don't think I'll have to do much because her tiny little feet have swiveled toward the forest.

_5 seconds left_.

I eye Katniss again, and she's staring blankly across the field, and I see her fellow Tribute shaking his head at her because she keeps eyeing the bow and arrows. What's on his mind? What is he going to do to her? Does he love her enough to protect her or will he hope that someone else will kill her?

_3 seconds left_... and it feels like an age. I'm thinking about so many things, my three little sisters back at home watching me. Katniss' family and friends watching her. Someone who loves her back at home are probably terrified for her.

I feel envious.

And now, I run as the _1_ disappears, and my feet hit the grass. Its a cacophony of chaos, and by the time I have raced across the open field, three Tributes lay dead having had their neck snapped by me, I'm not even thinking at this point. I feel my way through cutting down all in my way with my bare hands. I'm reacting, falling bodies, people trying to murder me for their own lives.

I reach the golden horn, and I swing the sword I pick up, decapitating a fourth Tribute in a split second. The blood is almost raining, the dead are accumulating, and I can smell it in the air. My mouth and nose are covered with a coppery grease that stings my mouth.

Anyone not accustomed to it would choke to death on the stench. Instinctively, I block Clove from viewing Katniss, knowing my partner would make a beeline straight for her.

The adrenaline pumps, and it hits my veins flooding me with the thirst to kill. I have just enough time to see Katniss grab up an orange bag, but a boy fights her over it. I take two serrated black hilt knives as the boy's fists rise in the air ready to strike, and I lodge them into his back causing the blood to spill as he is stunned and crippled. He falls over dead weight on top of small Katniss who is flailing now to push him off.

Katniss is gasping, her eyes wide, and I nod at her. She's gone, but not before grabbing the knives out of the boy's back and racing through the trees.

I turn to see Clove downing a female Tribute with cheery glee, and Glimmer for the first time I see her ruthlessness in all its glory. I bet the sadistic men are doing the unthinkable at home as she's covered in blood from head to toe. Marvel spears a young boy with a caw of delight, and I have just enough time to see the silver bow and quiver of arrows lying there before snapping them up, and tossing them into a bag. I've also got blocks of cheese and bread stowed away, and a half gallon of water.

The chaos obstructing my actions, and making it easy for me to manuever about unseen. I try not to look to my left or right, my instincts of cutting people down is high. I'm putting random things into my bag from bandages to spare sleeping bags. If I have it, they won't.

By the time the bath ends, eleven are dead, but the cannons haven't fired yet. They never do until the bloodbath abates completely and we leave the area. The field of the Cornucopia is bleeding red and brown, seeping into the earth and destroying what was once a lovely meadow overlooking a lake, open dead eyes stare up into that once beautiful open sky never having had a chance.

All of us, the Career Tributes have the golden horn to ourselves, and Glimmer and Clove are dancing around the bodies, Glimmer doing what she must term as a sexy dance for the audience, and blowing kisses.

They bask in their element of being able to let loose, and kill everything in their sights. Years of training being shown as each one of us become more and more unhinged. All happy to be here, the Tribute girl from 4 a Career, but her fellow partner has already died, and he's laying face down in a pool of his own blood. No idea who got him or what. I think her name is Risa if I remember correctly. She has a very forgettable face.

I've calmed down since seeing Katniss, and it has somehow leveled my mind. I force my breathing to slow down, and place on a stoic mask of indifference as I wipe my sword on my pants, and slide some knives in my belt for good measure.

"Where too now, darling?" Glimmer is flushed beside me, the blood on her clothes staining as I smirk down at her. It was hollow, but her eyes were alight with fire.

Marvel is barely containing his hatred for me having Glimmer's undivided attention. I am the unannounced leader of the group.

"I think we should look for the 12th bitch," says Clove, and Glimmer is grinning sadistically in agreement.

I barely contain my rage, and instead keep a cool level head. "No, we take down the weak, and work our way from there. You don't chase one enemy and leave the others, idiot."

Clove growls at me, but Marvel gives a sharp nod toward me, agreeing completely.

The Tribute from 4 is staring at us blankly, not speaking at all. "Well? You coming or not?" I ask walking off toward the woods.

She jerks as if only hearing it. I was told to include her because she had the best tracking sense of the entire team. According to Enobaria, Finnick Odair trained her personally.

I don't see much use for her, but the thirst for blood has been dampened. She can be used as fodder or a shield. Its time for the chase, and I'd be a liar if I said I hadn't been looking forward to it. For hours we comb the woods in search of breathing bodies, but the smart ones who decided it wasn't worth their lives around the Cornucopia are nowhere to be seen.

For now. It would soon be getting dark, and likely very cold, and that weakens many who are not used to the climate changing so quickly. Some of them will risk lighting fires to warm their frozen bodies, and that's when we will find them.

Clove and Glimmer are laughing and joking about the deaths, they are making so much noise that if there are any Tributes around there would be no way they wouldn't hear us. Each crunching step we take into the woods, the light begins to disappear as the trees hang over blocking bits of the sky.

The cannons are now firing, and I count them in my head. The girls are chugging water, and Marvel is pacing himself, and whipping his head around for more victims. Everyone who died today was our doing. It's usually always the Careers who strike first so lost in the lust.

I'm doing my best to keep my head level, and to keep from sinking to depths of the bloodthirsty. I hold it in, allowing myself to laugh at Clove when she mimics one of the victims. It's actually not hard to laugh, and that's the problem.

I'm really twisted, and I just keep seeing Katniss in my head. What does she think of me now?

We are moving downward into a sloping valley, the woods are lush and rich with nature. I imagine all the hiding spots we're passing by, and then I start wonder about Katniss again. It seems that my brain will always come back to her, and it really helps.

Is she okay?

Of course she is, I tell myself. She's smart. She grabbed the first pack within her reach, and was determined to get out of there. She wasn't likely to stay around for too long. She had a huge head start, and could be miles ahead of us by now.

Besides, these conditions are likely perfect for her. She now has an advantage that she never believed she'd have. I just wish I could catch a glimpse of her as it would keep me level headed, and not so thirsty to kill.

My hands are twitching, dried blood was caked under the nails and between the creases of my knuckles.

Its beginning to become nightfall, and we break out our torches and flashlights, not in the least bothered if anyone happens to come upon us because they would be dead in an instant. Apples and bread is passed around, and there's more laughing and giggling from the girls of the pack. Glimmer is flirting with Marvel, hoisting herself on his back, and he's eating right into it.

I amend my statement from before, Glimmer is dangerous and deadly. Maybe she's smarter than I've given her credit for.

I wish they would shut the fuck up so I could listen better, but all I can hear over their loud mouths are hoots from the owls creeping in, and taking sanctuary at night. My flashlight is grazing across the trees looking for footsteps, but the pine needles covering the ground make that hard. Its then that my flashlight stops when I see it amongst a set of hidden trees. I see a snare, and I'm familiar with its design.

My heart beats faster, and my eyes sharpen on instinct. _Shit_, she's nearby. That's my fear for her, but the other part of me is excited. Not to hurt her, but to see her. I want to catch a glimpse of her face, maybe then I can control myself.

Instead of shutting my group up I let them ramble on, the more distracted they are with each other the less likely they would notice the subtle signs of someone nearby. We walk in a circle for a few hours, and that's when I see it, and my heart plummets into my stomach.

I see the campfire up ahead, and the flickering of flames through the woods, the smoke is rising signalling exactly where our next kill will be. _No, please,_ she wouldn't be that dim. No way, and then Marvel is running ahead, stomping through the branches and the twigs on the ground, and Glimmer and Clove are right behind him.

I'm preparing to defend her if necessary, and move stealthily behind Clove and Marvel as they are my two greatest threats with longer ranged weapons. I can't help but breath a quiet sigh of relief when we come upon the campfire, and its a female Tribute that is not her.

She screams as a knife pierces her from Clove's grip, she's still alive, and only wounded as she's scooting back, kick dirt and ash all over the place in an feeble attempt to get away. The blood is pooling out of her arm, and she's pleading and begging while Glimmer and Clove laugh their heads off, and Marvel is making obscene comments.

I grin brutally as I watch her writhe on the ground, tortured from the pain of the knives, and then the spear to end it by Marvel.

It suddenly goes silent, and only the burning of the fire cracking and popping. I find myself in a haze of confusion, part of me is gleeful to see her die, another part of me is sad that I didn't do it, and then the other part that was awakened by Katniss is guilty and shameful.

I don't know how to deal with it. It makes me even more angry and more hungry to hurt someone.

Glimmer kicks the body when she discovers that there is nothing useful on her. "What a waste of time!" she spits on the body. "Disgusting, did you hear her screams? _Oh no, please don't hurt me!_" she's mocking the girl, and pretending to curl in on herself as she pretends to cry and scream.

Marvel smirks and curls an arm around her shoulder. "Come on, let's get out of here."

We're moving along a clump of willow trees, they hang low, and made it hard to see beyond. I'm a bit worried now because there is no cannon fire. My head is spinning, the rush of the blood is starting to get to me. My muscles are twitching, and I'm tense.

"Why hasn't the cannon fired?" Clove asked the one question I really wish she wouldn't.

I think its not going because they plan on firing it twice in a row because a second Tribute is so very close-by. I recall the snare a few minutes away. I hope my group is too stupid to realize this.

"Its obvious in all your brutality you forgot to finish her," I hiss moving it along.

They look affronted. "I killed her!" Clove snarls taking it as an insult that I would even doubt her murdering capabilities.

"I as good as stabbed the bitch to death!" Marvel barks at me. He's getting right close to my face, and he must realize this because he takes one step back. Clove is sucking in a breath, and looks like she's getting her knife ready to fight back.

I'm not in the least bit perturbed, and give them a loaded look. "Obviously not! Go on back to the Cornucopia, I'll be along after I finish her!"

Clove is pissed off. "Dammit, Cato, I told you I finished her off!"

I whirl around, my eyes narrowed dangerously on her. She may be slightly unhinged like me, but she also recognizes the warning signs. She has seen it too many times during our training to not know what it means. Yes, there are a few less trainees and trainers during my time in District 2.

Everyone else loved that about me.

"With all the noise you're making its no fucking wonder we've only crossed one pathetic idiot! You're taking all the fun out of hunting for me. Go back to the Cornucopia so I can finish her off! Maybe on my way back _I'll_ find someone more fun to play with!" I shove her toward the others, and they're looking at me with mixture of fear, hatred, and amusement all in one if that were possible.

"Fine, I won't save anything hot for you!" Clove sneered, and her and the others stalked off.

The girl from 4 is looking at me unsure, and I jerk toward her as if I'm going to snap her neck. "Get out of here!" I bark, and she scurries off causing me to close my eyes, and breathe deeply.

Its true that we're not supposed to separate at any time unless all the weaker Tributes were gone, but I have to breathe, and I need a second to think.

I go back to where the fire is alight, and I see the girl twitching. She's soaked in blood, and trying to crawl but she's too weak. She's kind of a fighter, and I almost feel bad when she's looking up at me. My shadow must terrify her because she knows its her end. "Sorry," I find myself saying as I slice her neck cleanly. Is it me, or did she seem relieved?

As the cannon fires, I turn away, and head back through the wooded area. My flashlight spots another trap. I take another sharp breath, and stop at the same willow tree from earlier for a bit of rest, and press my back to it. I'm scrubbing my face with my bloodied hand as the sweat drips into my mouth. Its so salty and stained with blood, I try not to gag.

This feeling I have its like a drug addict coming down from a particular strong high, and the crash is the worst part.

I'm losing grip with reality already, I can feel it slowly taking hold, and draining me of what little sanity I've been able to hold onto. I hope I'm hidden from the cameras, the mass of trees does well, and there isn't a single spark except for my flashlight. I switch it off so I can have a moment to myself.

There's a sudden flood of lights and sound in the sky, and the familiar tune of the Capitol's anthem plays, and the symbol is high in sky. I begin to see the familiar faces of all the innocent Tributes I have killed one by one.

I choke, and turn away from the sight so the cameras couldn't see the look on my face. I don't know what it looks like, but I know its not good. Something falls on my head then, a piece of bark, and instantly my flashlight is on, and I gape when the light shines onto the still as death small figure sequestered in the tree.

A flame ignites, and the feeling of breaking stops in its tracks. "Hi?" I say trying to keep the fear of being hated by this one little girl who has come to mean so much to me in such a short amount of time.

Her gray eyes practically glow in the dim light of the anthem. It's showing the last couple of Tributes that fell, and by our hands no less. She is looking from the sky and to me, and then opens her mouth only to cough roughly.

"Water?" she finally asks looking almost sheepish.

The fear that flooded me is slowly vanishing as I dip into my bag. "I can do you one better," I say hoping that this would be enough for her to trust me. I pull out the beautiful bow and quiver of arrows, and her eyes light up in an instant.

I don't even ask her to come down as I toss them to her. She catches them with both hands, and she begins to glide her small fingers over the clear feathers. "Thank you..." she rasps, and then I take the half gallon of water out of the pack. I take a drink of it for good measure as she's watching me now, and then I hand it to her.

"Keep it."

"No," she denies pulling out a silver flask, and pouring some into it.

"Are you hungry?" I toss a loaf of bread, and she catches it to. Her face is unreadable. _Do you hate me?_ That's what I really want to ask her. But, I'm too chicken shit to ask. I don't want to hear the answer.

She drops down the water, and takes several gulps from her flask, and a look of enormous relief settles across her face.

I feel I need to say something for the actions of my party, I know she heard everything. What must she think? Something that I think is guilt is nesting inside of me, threatening to kill me. "I'm sorry."

She's studying me now, and then shakes her head. "No use. I was planning her death already. Thank you at the Cornucopia," she whispers barely audible. She's taking the bow now in her hands, and testing it. She looks more relaxed now with it in her hands.

"Want to get it over with?" I find myself asking before I can stop. She's glaring at me now with a full fire that tickles me on the inside. I give her a cocky smile, and the glare somehow intensifies. "Am I too charming, darling?"

"Watch yourself, I'm fully loaded now," But her voice sounds teasing. She then looks as if she's considering something. It takes a few minutes for her to decide that something. "Do you want to come up?"

For some reason, those words mean the entire world to me. She was hesitant, but she was giving me a chance by trusting me. "If I do, I might not be able to keep my promise to you." I hate to say it because, yes, yes I want to come up there. I want to climb up, and hold her. I want her to trust me as she falls asleep with an assurance that I will keep her safe. "But, they might have already figured I want out of the alliance, and I'd be useless on that front anyway. Do you want me to come up?" I'm not a very good climber, but the branches of the willow are thick and sturdy. I think there is enough room.

Katniss isn't exactly big, but I am. For all I know I could break it with my weight.

She gives me a one shoulder shrug. "I won't stop you. Be warned, I don't have the resources your group has. I kill what I eat, and your water will become scarce if there is two of us."

"I can live with that." Am I really going to do this? My Mentors are going to go crazy. I wonder if they are watching us now, and what must the audience think? Can they see us in the darkness of the hanging trees? They probably see me, but not her. I bet she's well hidden. Smart girl she is. I bet they are all excited with anticipation.

That's good, that means we'd be able to sleep in relative peace. The audience is on edge just wondering who I am talking to.

I wonder if its possible for them to somehow send a word to Clove. I doubt they'd be able to, but I wouldn't be surprised if they had a system set up where an item is sent in to her if I were to defect.

Oh well, it was going to happen sooner or later.

I then give her a true smile, and I hand her my sword, and she takes it by the hilt, and I begin the precarious venture of climbing.

Katniss is snickering at me now, and I scowl as I attempt to get into a tree. "Fuck!" My leg is twisting in a funny position, and I can't seem to find the hold to hoist myself up.

"_Ssh_!" She's outright giggling now, and the sound is like music to my ears.

"Ssh to you to!" I am astounded at how she can move further up the trunk with relative ease. "How the fuck do you sleep like this?"

"Easy."

Easy? "You are a cat."

"_Brute_."

Finally, I find myself on a sleeping bag covering the fork she had placed herself in, and its not that bad, but how do I keep from rolling? I stare at her in wonderment. "Now what? You going to stay like that because I don't think I can sleep."

She rolls her eyes at me, and then considers something else, I can tell when she's thinking hard about something because her brows knit, and there's a wrinkled crease that looks really cute. "You're better than a sleeping bag I bet." Before I can realize what she means by that, she has turned her back, and slid down nestled between my legs, and my whole body becomes warm with her weight. _Oh, that's dangerous_, but in a good way for me, and maybe a little embarrassing. "I'm trusting you, Cato Mathias."

I shiver unconsciously as she hisses my full name. A name I haven't heard in years. Boldly, I settle my arms around her waist, and she takes her belt, and straps us in. Her legs are splayed up the fork slightly, and she's so small that she actually fits with my bulk.

"You're amazing," I breathe fascinated by her simple movements, and ability to adapt.

I can't see her face, but I bet she's smirking at me. "S'why you've gone over to the dark side."

"Not the dark side, I'm completely on the light with you around," I confess quietly, wondering if I'm saying to much or how she'll react as I place my chin on her shoulder. "I'll keep you safe."

"I can protect myself, now."

I have no doubt. "Yes, but I will protect you, I promise."

"... go to sleep," she hisses bowing her head as she tightens her hood. "You're drained."

Amazing how she can know that so quickly. "I am..." I breathe as I think back to all the bloodshed. I feel my facial muscles weakening as I bury my nose into the side of her hood, and it all goes quiet. I don't feel her relax fully, but I can tell she's asleep, and yet she is aware.

I hold onto her for dear life because maybe this girl right here can be the sanity that I lost years ago. If I die tonight at least I'll die happy.

**Katniss**

Okay, I have done it now. I've went and completely ruined my own thoughts and plans when Cato stared up at me with that god awful look. I don't know what it is, but I couldn't stand to see the look on his face.

He knows what he did, and he knows he has to keep doing it. He's trying not to enjoy it, but he falls short, and he's shamed and guilty over it. He should be, but the look as if he's been kicked repeatedly tore me in places I can't even begin to describe. I don't hold it against him, how can I when we are all in the same situation?

It's the Capitol, the one man who controls all of Panem with a frozen fist. He is to blame, and I'm not callous or that hypocritical not to see it.

Having him join me is a risky situation, but when he was going to turn me down because of the promise that I never truly expected him to keep, I knew that if he went back to the Cornucopia, his so-called allies would turn on him. I don't want him to die like that.

Actually, I don't want him to die at all. That's dangerous here in the Hunger Games where all but one dies.

Why does he make me feel funny? Why does he make me want to laugh and be giddy? He forces me to drop my guard, and I let him into my personal space. He's in my willow, and I'm sitting between his thick thighs. They are so warm against me that I was right when I said that he would be better than any sleeping bag.

I need to stay awake, and be coherent, but I don't think I can. I am completely wiped out after all of that commotion. My stupid neighbor, almost serves her right being killed. I feel bad that she likely had to suffer for it instead of a swift and merciful kill, but I didn't want to die either because of a stranger's stupidity.

Or is it desperation?

Now I feel like shit. Most of these Tributes don't know anything about hunting while I am fully capable. I sag against the strong heated muscles. I think inwardly that I have the better end of the deal considering how comfortable Cato happens to be.

I let a small smile grow in the dark for a few minutes. I have to admit, its nice not being alone. Cato went above and beyond, and for me. He never spoke to them about my abilities with the bow. He took the bow from the Cornucopia, and hid it just for me.

I see his shred of sanity being held by a thread, I saw it when he wasn't aware of me. I saw him losing grip, and my heart hurts for him. Maybe I can help keep it together? I hope so.

I feel my body falling asleep, I keep one hand on a knife, ready to fling at a moments notice, but I'm drifting now, My awareness sharpened, and yet blurred from exhaustion. I'll think of it tomorrow.

For some reason it doesn't occur to me that this man could kill me where I sit. I don't think he will. Something about his eyes, the look of loss, and the fear of being rejected.

Whatever happens next I will deal with it, for now rest is in order because I most certainly got none last night.


	7. Chapter 7

7.

**Cato**

Oh, I am so fucking sore. How the hell does one sleep in a damn tree? I feel the stiffness in my body, along with something hot pressing against me. My eyes are open in an instant, and its Katniss, she's moving around me, part of her brushing against more sensitive areas. I'm feeling a little too warm, and I'm fearful of what would happen if she kept wiggling.

She unsnaps the belt, and I watch her sleepily as she backs our things. The trees really are her greatest strength. She isn't even worried about falling out of it. She's crouched, and she pivots on one foot as she's adjusting her bag, scowling silently at the garish orange.

My ass is numb, and I can imagine the pain I'm going to be in from being straddled all night. She notices me awake instantly. All I can do is breath a small sight of relief when her warm body left me. I ignore the small twitch that seems disappointed.

"We should go now, I need to check the snares for rabbits, and we can't eat it raw," Katniss says to me. "We can use that Tributes fire, I bet its still smoking."

Indeed, its only been about three hours, and despite the cramps in my body I have to say it was a pleasant experience as she had been so close to me. My arms holding her tight. I don't say anything, and am not sure I have a voice as Katniss puts her flask to my mouth. I guess my lips were obviously chapped. If the cameras could see us all of Panem would be thunderstruck.

I take a few gulps, and try to get my senses back.

"I have food," I finally say, and I sound like a frog with the rasp and croak lodged in my throat.

"That is to be saved for later when we can't hunt. No need to waste a fresh kill," Katniss says sliding off the tree like a slide.

I wrap the sleeping bag under me, and I groan inwardly at the pain in my spine. "Don't look so refreshed," I complain, and she's smirking at me.

_Ah, the cameras_.

"Sorry, but I did have the better end of the deal I guess," she says as she takes my things, and I jump down.

"Yeah, you used me as a pillow," I play up the crowds, and I imagine the looks on their faces.

Katniss gave me what she thought was an innocent shrug. "What can I say? You make for a good one." she pokes me in the stomach. "Let's see if my snares come up with anything."

"Good, I'm starving!" This was the part of the Hunger Games I was not trained in. I'm absolutely useless finding food. Most of it around me would likely kill me in one bite.

I keep a distance behind her, looking around, and allowing my senses to pick up if anyone is nearby. I know for a fact that my former allies likely haven't moved yet from the comforts of the Cornucopia. I can't say I regret leaving my group. Sure, they have comforts like an endless supply of food and water, but they leave a lot to be desired. When I'm around them I become a rabid inhuman animal who sinks further and further into the lust of blood.

Katniss' presence sobers me up, and there's a flicker inside, and I feel good like I'm worth more than being a murderous sociopath. Her eyes cut right through the facade, and get to the heart of matter.

"I'll show you how to prepare wild game to be eaten," she says from a few paces away. She heads up the slop of a valley, and I quickly catch up watching in silent awe. She stops at the base of some brushes, and I'm surprised when she pulls out two fat rabbits by the ears. "Then we need to secure more water than we have now. It won't last if we're both moving and the temperature climbs."

I must look like a stalker to the audience because I'm not speaking. I only watch.

We go over to the campfire that's still smoldering. "I think we can risk a bit of a fire," I say plopping down. The body is gone now, the hovercrafts having come some time ago to collect it.

"The morning haze and fog should cover most of the smoke, but lets be on guard. I also need to try and cover this god awful orange bag," she hisses in disgust. She pulls out some plastic. No one but her would grab it from the Cornucopia. They wouldn't see a need for it, but she had. She uses a little bit of water to skin, cut, and prepare the rabbits.

All I can do is watch her in awe as she works intently on the wild game. Glimmer for all her bloodthirsty intentions would probably squeal and flinch away at the idea of eating such a wild and fresh animal.

Clove would eat it, but she'd rather not. Marvel strikes me as the type to complain. He was always complaining about the food at the Training Center, and how it wasn't good enough for his tastes. All I can think of is how incredible this one woman sitting beside me really is.

By the time she's done the rabbit look appetizing. She prepares skewers, and we both roast them over the fire.

"The next batch you prepare it," she tells me, and I nod as I don't trust speaking. I might say something even more damning.

Its not bad, tastes good actually. I never ate anything so fresh. Sure, I'd prefer the steak and potatoes, but this is just as good when it comes to the Hunger Games. The first bit of meat I've had since they started. I'm not the kind of guy who likes sweets.

We are careful with the water, taking sips out of Katniss' flask while leaving whats left in my half gallon jug alone for the time being. Once she's done, she wraps the rest up, and tells me to eat all of mine. She then begins to use the ashes to try and cover her horrible orange bag.

As she does that I put out the smoke, and spread pine needles over the top of it. She stuffs the rabbit bits that aren't to be eaten underneath a rock, and piles leaves on it. As I stand, I feel the ache from sleeping in the tree slowly receding. She uses just a little bit of water from her flask to get the oiliness off her skin.

"Where to?" I ask letting her lead.

"Water, and it has to be nearby. The lake at the Cornucopia can't be the only source otherwise we wouldn't have had so many rabbits this morning."

"Down hill then?" I suggest, and she nods already heading in that direction. "Give me a chance to stretch my legs."

Katniss smirks. "Oh come on, its not that bad."

I try to glare, but the look on her face dampens it. "I prefer the ground."

"I hate the ground, too easily seen. I feel chained. I prefer to climb, and stay there." We're moving at a steady pace, weaving in between the copse of trees, and doing our bests to remain silent.

Despite my weight, I know how to move quietly, and she seems very pleased when I don't scare every creature off the trail. Its obvious she's using them as a means to find water.

"Yeah because you're like a monkey the way you climb."

"Monkey?" Katniss pauses for a moment as she thinks about the animal, and then rolls her eyes playfully. Both of us are aware that we probably have the cameras watching and following us. This will be easily the most entertaining thing since the bloodbath at the Cornucopia. The intrigue is set in around all of Panem.

I spot a shining gold pin on Katniss' jacket. "Like a Mockingjay then." I've never seen it before, and I can't help but stop her, and take a look at it. I wonder if they've realized how comfortable we are with each other as I brush a thumb across the gold pin. "I've never seen this before."

"A friend of mine back home gave it to me as my district token. I thought I lost it on the train." We continue on course, and I feel a prickle on the back of my neck like we're being watched. I stiffen, and grip the hilt of my sword.

Katniss catches on without words, and her fingers are twitching on the bow, but there's nothing in our path as we continue going downhill much to Katniss distaste.

"I can carry you?" I tease, and then grunt when Katniss' hand slaps me in the stomach. "_Or not_... you like being high up right?"

"Shut it." She's trying not to laugh. "Keep moving because the way this sun is rising, I expect a really hot day."

And hot it was.

Its late evening, and its scorching. We've burned through almost all of my water, and Katniss is looking nervous, and that's when we step into the mud, and I see those long protruding cat-tails that are often seen by the water, and pond lilies.

On the way, Katniss split some of her crackers with me after she managed to kill three squirrels. "Think we should add our bread to it, make a sandwich," I suggest.

"Since we found water, yes, we will," says Katniss with a small smile. "You're preparing it." She hands the dead critters to me, and I hand over the near empty jug.

We can't help ourselves, we take off our shoes and socks, and bunch up our pants to the knees, and its euphoria when we dip our feet into it. Sighs and a moan of pleasure escapes Katniss as she leans back against the bank. She's filling the bottles we have now, and using iodine to purify it.

I sit above her just a little, my feet in the water. I lay the plastic over me, and I remember Katniss' movements from earlier on preparing it. She turns and watches me while we wait for the cleansing. If I can hurry and get it done we can light a fire, and it won't be noticed.

There have been no cannons tonight, and I can tell we are both hoping that the entertainment is high enough from seeing us together that the Gamemakers will leave us alone.

She gasps when I about skewer the wrong part. Her hands careful as she stops me, and directs the knife to the write place. To speed it up, she takes the third, and is done in a blink.

"Show off."

"Brute."

"Bossy."

She splashes water into my face. "Light a fire," she orders with a mock tone of superiority.

"_Yes, bossy_."

Katniss toasted four small thin slices of our bread, and then placed a tiny sliver of cheese on each, and we eat our sandwiches, until our bellies are filled, and I have to say – this is delicious. I could live like this in the woods for the rest of my life with Katniss. The way she looks at me, and I can't read her mind. I like that. We drink our fill of water until our stomachs feel swollen.

I help her conceal her bag, and while the mud helps it seems to want to stay orange. We trade light banter back and forth, and then prepare to find a tree for bed.

I groan at this. "My ass is not going to thank you for this."

"Its a good thing I'm not looking for approval from your ass now isn't it?" she cheers at me, and the cocky expression on her face turns me on once again in a rush.

I'm moving before I can think, one arm swooping around her waist, and she gasps when we go splashing into the pond. "Cato!" Katniss squeaks as I let go and smirk.

"That's for your cocky response. My ass is hurt you know."

She comes up, and glares at me harshly, and then splashes my face viciously with water. "Your ass can deal. I'm soaked!"

"You needed a bath anyway." I freeze completely when she pulls her soaked jacket off her shoulders, and I see her green top is sucked against her frame. She tosses it onto a tree limb so it can dry. She's rubbing the water away from her face, and my eyes can't stop.

"_Oh,_ as if you smell any better," she scowls, but I see a hint of a smile play on her face. "Well, here goes," And then to my shock she holds her breath and goes back under all the way.

Its almost a full minute, and I start to get worried that she's not coming up, and then I gasp as the whole world tilts. Small familiar hands grasp the sides of my hips, and I go flying until I'm completely submerged. I'm swallowed briefly by the splash.

I manage to get my footing, and I don't know how this happens, but even in the cool pond water my whole body flares because when I rise, Katniss is expertly climbing up my back, slim arms are wrapped around my neck, and Katniss' mouth is so fucking close to my cheek. Her legs wrap around my torso, and she's laughing.

Fuck, she's laughing. A real true laugh, and I wish I could see her face. I would give anything to be able to turn my head all the way around. I can feel her modest chest against my back, and I'm reacting, and thanking all the nature that my lower half is submerged in water.

"S'what you get, Cato Mathias," she hisses in my ear, and I'm done for. Am I on fire? I must be because the water is suddenly 100 degrees, and its only getting worse. "Now take us to the shore," she orders as if she's riding on a horse.

My eyes lower as adrenaline pumps me. "Yes, Miss Fire Queen, I shall do as you say," I manage to get out, but my tongue is dry, and I know I sound a little on the strangled side.

"Good boy!" Her chirp sets my teeth on edge.

_Kill me now._

**Katniss**

I wonder if I've upset him. Our clothes are soaked, and it makes it harder to climb up a sturdy tree big enough for the two of us. Cato is very quiet, and only offers me a small smile when we talk. Its getting dark now, and we really need to be situated in our tree before the Careers come hunting for us.

It was hard to leave the lake, but we have our bellies filled, and our thirsts are more than quenched. It's odd, I can't remember a time where I've had that much fun, not since before my father died anyway. I shouldn't be because this is the Hunger Games, and for all of a few minutes I forgot about the games and the cameras. I forgot that Panem was watching us.

What did they think? What did they see?

I'd like to know because I don't know myself. We are in a large enough tree that Cato isn't straddled. His legs are straight until his feet hit a fork, and I consider things for a moment before doing something that was likely stupid or would get the crowds going so wildly that we might have a safe night to sleep.

My heart is racing, and my skin is buzzing as I loop a leg, and am soon sitting straddled in Cato's lap. His eyes are monstrously widen, and his large hands are holding my hips. "Th-this is dangerous."

"How so?" I ask confused by his reaction. He's gritting his teeth, and looking ashen. "Did you get hurt when we were in the water? I'm sorry!"

Cato's shuddering, and his eyes close. "_Goddamn, Kat_, you really don't know?" His voice is shaking, and it comes out with a mix of a grunt and a growl.

"No!" I confess. I hate not knowing something, what's going on? I shift, and he gasps as if I've hurt him. "Are you okay? If you're hurt tell me so I can fix it!" I'm worried because I didn't mean to hurt him, and that's when I feel it.

_I feel him_, and I am immobilized. My hands are pressed flat to his chest, and we stare at one another like a caught deer for the longest time, and I can tell Cato is trying not to breathe. "S-sorry." He looks guilty.

Did I cause this? I want to look down, but I know better. I settle with my knees locked around him, and he's got his eyes shut. I'm close enough now to see a flicker of agony and something else – _pleasure_? No, that's not the right word for it.

I almost forget we need to be belted in for this. "I'm going to freeze tonight," I say absently as my jacket is soaked, and I can feel it on my skin.

"No you won't," says Cato opening his eyes suddenly as if aware. I can feel him getting a little more comfortable as he dips into the bag that hangs above us, and pulls another sleeping bag out, and wraps it around my shoulders. I don't want him to freeze so I push closer until our chests are touching, and my cheek is resting on his shoulder. I can feel his heart beating against mine, and his arms locking around me. Strangely, I'm not as cold as I expected to be. "Sorry about dunking you in the water."

"I needed a bath," I find my voice, and Cato chuckles roughly. "Go to sleep," he says taking up his sword. "I'll watch tonight." The anthem begins to play, but there will be nothing in the sky tonight so I don't even turn my head.

I realize as I'm laying there so close to him, arms snuggled between us that I actually do trust him. I trust him to keep me safe, and I trust his hands, the way they hold me close as if he is trying to give me all his warmth.

At this point, I don't know what it'll mean when it comes to the games. As I start to fall asleep against Cato, I can't help but think I've really made a mess of things.

When my body and mind flickers on from the haze of sleep, I can tell instantly that I am drenched in sweat. A tiny speck of light is flickering between the heavy foliage of the trees, and I'm sticky. I smell stale pond water and salty sweat.

Even with the belt, I have somehow shimmied my way down until my ear is pressed to Cato's chest, and I can hear the beating of his heart as I peel my eyes open. Unlike last night they don't burn, and I can hear the birds singing and twittering. Cato is holding me close, and he's – snoring?

He's snoring! I'm working this through my brain when I hear the sound of a cannon, and we both jolt awake. Cato gripping his sword even tighter, and he's holding me.

"Kat?"

"Uh huh," I can feel his heart-beat its as fast and jerky as mine is as I sit up, the sleeping bag falls off me, and thank goodness because I think I'm going to smother. "W-we should go."

Cato can only nod, and we just have time to get things together when the ground begins to shake, and before I go crashing to the ground, Cato's arm swoops in and grabs me. Its the weirdest thing because I'm partially hanging upside down, in a sort of back bend, and that's when I see it as the smoke curls around my nose.

I see a wall of flickering flames. "C-Cato?"

He doesn't have to look at what he's smelling or the crackling and sounds of a stampede rushing through the forest. I manage to grab our bags, and he pulls the belt off our restricted frames, and we launch off the tree, and to my utter surprise, he is running with me in his arms.

He's jumping over logs, and diving through the foliage. All I can do is clutch Cato as I watch over his shoulder as the entirety of the woods behind us is incinerated by the engulfing flames that stretch to high and wide to be natural. Its too fast as a tree nearby goes crashing to the earth. A rumble nearly trips Cato, but he's sure footed. I smell and feel the heat coiling around us like a fist, and its threatening to take us by the throat, and snuff out our lives.

Its only thankful that I'm light enough to not be an obstruction for Cato's massive brute strength. I should get down, but I feel frozen, lost as the fire consumes all in its path.

The flames lighting up the morning gray sky, and they're barreling down upon us now. Fear like I have never felt is coursing through me, and Cato just keeps running.

I can feel the heat clawing more desperately, its tendrils rising until it swirls down my throat. My lips are dry, and my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth. I'm coughing and spluttering as I bury my nose and mouth into Cato's shirt. I know I'm clawing him because my nails are dug into his body, and I'm trying not to shake. Fire has always been a fear of mine, its why I had such a reaction to Cinna's amazing pyrotechnics. I've seen them come from the mines, second and third degree burns, and almost all the flesh being melted or distorted. I always flee into the safety of the woods when they come in.

I have to get a hold of myself. I need down to run to or we'll both be drenched in the flames!

"I can run...!" I shout over the searing crash of a tree no more than ten yards behind us.

He says nothing, his breathing heavy as he concentrates on the trek through the forest, zig-zagging as he tries to put as much distance between us and the flames.

The Gamemakers must be having a great time with this. The girl on fire – _literally._ I guess they were downright sore about me startling them during our private sessions. Score one for the Gamemakers!

I need down, I need to do something. I'm not some helpless damsel in distress. I say this to him, but he tells me to shut up in a rough growl as he jumps over a boulder, his long legs carrying us a small distance away.

When I think we may be able to beat it, the fireballs come. "CATO!" He sees them out of the corner of his eye, and he's swerving now, crashing into bushes and limbs.

I hear screams in the distance as the flames continue to bounce around us, someone has been caught in the waves. Fireballs the size of Cato's fists are shooting our way, and the impact into a nearby tree is loud and explosive, and it reminds me of the mine explosions. Cato had just enough time to dodge the second before slamming to the ground. A painful and squishy contact with the earth, I feel as if I can't breathe, he's on top of me covering me. I hear him taking several gulps of air against me to keep from throwing up from the smoke. I'm pushed into the mud, and before I can fear that we are going to be burnt alive by the nearing flames, he's up again, and running. It was thanks to that mud that bones weren't broken.

"Should let me down now, I'm just dead weight!" I cry out over the whoosh of the fire.

"_No!_ If they separate us that'll make things worse! Just stay still Kat, and stop wiggling!" Cato declares, and I huff in irritation.

I soon realize what the Gamemakers are doing, they're trying to corral us all together since we've been spread out and hidden for so long. There haven't been enough deaths to sate their hunger, and the games are not allowed to become boring. I tell Cato this, and I can tell he's grinning like a maniac.

"Let's go then if that's where they want us to go, and we'll give them one hell of a show!"

At least humans were predictable, fire wasn't. Cato's crying in relief, and I want to whip around to see what he sees, but I fear doing so that I would only slow him down, and then a splash of ice cold water hits my boots and knees, and we're sluggishly moving deeper into its depths.

The glorious river that ran from the forest and into the lake of the Cornucopia has become our savior, relief washes over me. A bed of thigh high water sloshes against the shore and our sweating bodies, I think we're safe, and we've made it out.

If there is one thing I know about the games is that attacks are triggered in a certain areas. We don't see anyone else nearby. Cato is still not letting go of me, fearing the flames as they seemed to stop at the very edge.

They're glaring at us as we taunt them with our safety, and then as if the Gamemakers are laughing at us from somewhere, one last fireball shoots out with an intent to hit, and I'm frozen, fear radiating from every part of my body as I know its heading toward us. Man made fire can probably withstand water, but its _not_ headed toward us.

It whistles over our heads, and explodes into a clump of thick bushes with purple and white flowers, burning and eating it alive with its viciousness. There's a familiar horrendous scream as Cato sends us head first under the water in case we become its new target, but we're not. I can see through my blurred vision that the flames are retreating having done its job too well.

And its the screams from the hidden figure that launches itself out of the bushes, and into the depths of the water with a pained gurgle and a choking splash. At first, I can't tell if it is a male or a female, but then my blood turns ice cold.

Despite the charring of the flesh, and the acrid taste of burning stuck to my throat, I recognize the scream, and I dive off Cato, horror filling my lungs as the fire in the background begins to die down.

I don't care if anyone else is around right now because my brain has latched onto an image that will haunt my dreams for years to come.

"PEETA!"


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Sorry for the wait, but I seemed to have caught the flu. I tried to read over this as best as possible, but blurred lines are blurred lines. **

8.

**Katniss**

I'm sloshing through the waves of the stream, and fighting back the current that threatens to take hold as I meet the burned and charred body of the boy who once gave me life. I wrap my shaking and weak arms around him as fear and dread build inside of me. His lower body has been hit, and hard. From head to toe are third degree burns, and I feel as though I'm going to choke on my own heart. Just me touching him is agonizing, and I dip him deeper into the water on instinct.

This can't be happening, no, not like this. Not Peeta!

"P-Peeta!"

He was covered in some green stuff, and flowers that had their edges crisped, and I realize he was using his talent in camouflage.

"K-Katniss?" His blue eyes are staring at me, and then he smiles weakly. Why is he smiling? He's dying! And I know its agony.

"Yes, its me, hang on Peeta, please!" I try to get him out of the water to inspect his burns, but his screams come out in a choked gurgle of pain, and I can't tell if he's crying or not. "Stay with me, Peeta! Come on, please, you have to stay with me!"

Peeta somehow laughs as if he's amused, but its so broken I can't be sure. "I- I can't, Katniss, you know that. There can be only one winner." He's choking now, and I try to turn him over to pat his back, but every time I try to move him he's crying out in pain.

I don't know what to do. I'm breathing heavy now, I feel as though I'm hyperventilating. This wasn't supposed to happen, no, not like this. I've no idea how to handle these things as I've always been too damn chicken shit to do anything about it. Prim would be a better choice than me right now.

Burns so terrible they give me the shivers, and yet here I am holding a charred mess that is Peeta. I feel a brittle sensation under my fingertips, and the slick oily movement of skin having made contact with extreme heat. It takes all I am not to throw up. I can see the blisters forming, and I try to keep him fully submerged under the water so he's not in so much pain. I can't stand to see it, it hurts everything inside of me.

"Its always been you," Peeta tells me. "Y-you're the one to save. N-not me. I h-have no one who needs me like you, Katniss. _12 needs you_." His words are garbled and they make no sense to me. I realize then I can get help, Haymitch, my sponsor! I don't care if he has to drain what few sponsors I might be able to garner. I want him healed! Surely, the Capitol has some amazing medicines to counter the intensity of the burns.

"Haymitch!" I call out to the sky. "_Please, Haymitch_, help me?" I'm wating, but there's nothing. He could get it, I _know_ he could.

"He won't do that," croaked Peeta. "We made a deal."

"Wh-what?" I don't understand what he's saying.

"Its you, Katniss, its always you. I want to die like this, the way I am now, and the person I am. I – I can't let them take that from me. Haymitch won't send anything. _You_ are priority."

What's he saying? Has he lost his mind?! "No! Peeta, we can get you help-"

"Katniss!" Peeta's voice is weak, but there's a sharp hint to it like he's trying to be angry.

"_But_-"

"Let him talk, Kat," Cato's low voice breaks through the haze of grief. "These are his last words." He looks very remorseful, and keeps his distance.

Peeta gives a crazy laugh. "O-only you can m-make a C-Career fall for you. O-only you, Katniss." Cato looks away at that, and I'm not comprehending. "I'm not surprised. You've always been amazing. J-just like you did me."

My mouth is trembling, and I have no words. I feel as though I'm being socked in the gut, and the wind is leaving my lungs at a rapid pace. I can't be sick, I can't get hysterical, not now. I hold it down, and listen to Peeta with all my heart because its all I can do not to break into a thousand tiny pieces.

"D-do you remember th-the first day of Kindergarten?" he asks me, and I don't understand what that has to do with now.

I nod weakly. "Little bit."

"Y-you were wearing a checkered red skirt, and then you sang the Valley song-?" I barely recall, but I do because my father sang it to me often enough. I nod again, not trusting myself to speak. "I knew I was in trouble then. Like my father and your mother, I fell in love with you that day."

"No..." I looked away.

"Yes... you sang so beautifully, I was – captivated." He smiles weakly at me, and I can barely stand it. "Such a small little girl, and yet there you were singing, and not only that but all the school yard bullies. The ones who were always well fed, you beat them to a pulp, and your face – so scary."

"You saved my life, why can't I save yours?"

"I don't want it to be saved. I'm happy to die right now, and right here."

"Y-you fed me when I was about to die. You let your mother beat you for me!"

Peeta laughed darkly. "She always did that to me. She hated my guts because I wasn't the little girl she dreamed of. I always watched you, my father will take care of your sister, he promised me." His voice had gotten weaker, and he was rasping now so soft and broken. "Do me one favor, Katniss?"

"W-what's that?" I ask bowing my head so the cameras couldn't see my expression.

"S-sing for me. Once more?"

I don't know if I can, and as I'm about to decline, Cato is on Peeta's other side, and holds him up. "Go on, Kat, I think he deserves it."

I swallow the thickness in my throat, and give a nod. I'm looking at Peeta, but at the same time I'm not.

_Down in the valley, the valley so low_ _Hang your head over, hear the wind blow_ _Hear the wind blow, dear, hear the wind blow;_ _Hang your head over, hear the wind blow._ _Roses love sunshine, violets love dew,_

Peeta's eyes close, and I continue the song that I thought I forgot, but in these few moments I can remember my father singing each word clearly as the birds stopped to listen to him, and the Mockingjays remembering the notes so they could sing back in thanks.

_Angels in Heaven know I love you,_ _Know I love you, dear, know I love you,_ _Angels in Heaven know I love you._ _If you don't love me, love whom you please,_ _Throw your arms 'round me, give my heart ease,_ _Give my heart ease, dear, give my heart ease,_ _Throw your arms 'round me, give my heart ease._ _Build me a castle, forty feet high;_ _So I can see her as she rides by,_ _As she rides by, dear, as she rides by,_ _So I can see her as she rides by._ _Write me a letter,'Send it by mail,_ _Send it in care of_ _Birmingham Jail,_ _Birmingham Jail, love, Birmingham Jail,_ _Send it in care of Birmingham Jail_

Peeta is saying something to Cato, but I'm trying hard not to break off, and start sobbing and screaming like the little girl I feel. As the song finishes, his eyes are drifting close as if he's falling asleep, and to my surprise, he looks peaceful. He speaks in a hushing voice.

"Good night, Katniss. You've made me happy."

Dying inside is something I have become accustomed to, but dying like this was not fair. I know death is never fair, and it swoops in and takes the ones you love without warning.

The Capitol is at fault for this, the damn Hunger Games, and I'm steaming mad and hysterical as the cannon in the sky fires, signalling Peeta's death. I bend down, and kiss his burnt cheek, my tears leaking onto his charred face as his breathing completely stops. My head is down because I'm afraid of raising it for the cameras. I keep a hand to my mouth, fearing what will come out as my shoulders keep jerking as I keep down the shrieks threatening me.

Cato seems to understands, and shields me. "Let's find a tree..." I don't even realize he's pulling me away as Peeta's body remains afloat, sagging only a little by the weight of his clothes. I can't leave him like that.

I can't. I just – I can't. "I can't, Cato, I can't leave him like this... can we at least clean him up?" Cato is holding onto me now, and all I can do is clutch him. "I have to..."

"Let me help," he says roughly.

I look into his eyes, and am surprised to see guilt written there, true sadness for me and my loss. I give a nod, and Cato lifts Peeta out of the water, and takes him to the edge of the bank. I only dare anyone come through the thicket of trees right now. If they do, I will shoot to kill, I think darkly. I'm in no mood for taunts or laughs. I _will_ kill because who and what I want to kill is not within my grasp right now.

I try to clean the burns and blisters off his skin, and Cato washes Peeta's shredded and torn clothes in the stream, and we work in a quiet tandem. My fingers are moving with intent because its all I can do to keep from dying along side him. I can feel my eyes burning, and the swollen puffiness from the hot tears that manage to spill. I'm beyond caring about the fucking cameras now. Let them see what they caused.

I use my fingers to comb his hair into his usual style, not the style they forced on him when he was dressed up for the Hunger Games.

"You sounded beautiful, I see why he fell in love with you," Cato whispers lowly as he takes a very thin piece of pine, and begins to scrape Peeta's nails clean. I wouldn't even have thought about his nails. I quietly thank Cato, but I know I don't need to.

"I- I didn't even know," I confess. "He's the one who saved me from the clutches of starvation. He saved my whole family. I always tried to thank him, but I could never catch his eye in school. He was always one of the popular boys, and I was just – _well_ – I was me, hostile and cold. I – I don't know if I was ashamed because he saw me at my most weak or if I just – I was just too horrible of a person not to."

"That wouldn't have been it, and you know it, Kat," Cato tells me sharply. "I think he knew, the fact that you managed to bounce back after he gave you the loaves. Seeing you healthy was all the thanks he needed."

My shoulders sag, I'm pretty damn sure the cameras are no longer on me, even doing this for Peeta would smack of rebellion, and it was likely too uncomfortable for the Capitol. I know the hovercrafts are waiting for us to move to collect Peeta, but I'm not leaving him until I am satisfied.

"He didn't deserve this," I mouth to Cato.

"None of us do." When I finally let myself look at Peeta's still form, I can't believe the amazing job we did with what little resources we have. He was still badly burnt, and most of it had been too his chest and lower extremeties, but we were able to cover that with his clothes. His face was mostly clean now. He could almost be passed off as sleeping. I rise from my place, and gather some flowers. A few tiger lilies as Peeta loved them the best, I knew because I'd always see the cookies with the flower drawn on top.

I wonder what his favorite color was? I never got a chance to ask. I was always so in my head, so selfishly thinking about myself. I never thought to talk to Peeta like a human being. The Hunger Games wedging mistrust between us.

I begin to splay the flowers around the still form in a generous wave, and placed one last flower in the palm of his hand, and I kissed his forehead. "Good-bye, Peeta." I kissed my three fingers, and held it out to him before rising off my knees, and gathering my stuff.

**Cato**

I felt as if I was intruding upon something I shouldn't be seeing. I'm captivated by the sound of her singing voice, and as I find myself lost in it, Peeta turns to me, and whispers, "Keep her alive, and make them pay."

I don't quite know how to feel about that. How was I going to do both? I can keep her alive, but I can't make them do anything because if she's alive, I won't be.

I have no problem with that in this very moment. I will gladly slice my own throat so that Katniss will live on, but first I have to get her to the end, and I will cut a sway for her.

Katniss can take care of herself, I'm aware of this. She can kill without a moment's hesitation, particularly now, but I want to save her that damning pain of taking lives. I was fourteen when I took my first life, and I very nearly went mad over it.

Killing someone is not as easy as the way I and the other careers make it out to be. Sure, its simple to pull a trigger and swing a sword, but the aftermath. The aftermath is what makes it so completely different.

You suck the life out of something, and you never give it back. Its like your soul breaks a little bit with each kill until you're left with nothing, and a hollow shell is all that is left inside. You begin to work off instincts rather than emotions because the latter aren't as forthecoming.

I watch as she lays flowers around Peeta's body, and then she makes the three finger salute that I remembered seeing her District do when she volunteered for her sister. The Capitol will be at fault for this, it was their fireball they engineered, and they will see it in full.

A young life snuffed out before his time. They will be made to pay once they see the way Katniss has laid him out.

I never knew this Tribute, and I shouldn't care, but Katniss cares. Since she cares, I have to care. I feel guilt and shame. What must the families have felt when they saw me ruthlessly snap necks and shove swords into their sons and daughters?

I don't say anything as Katniss finally grabs her things, hooking her bow and quiver as if she's ready for a war. Wordlessly, I wrap my arm around her shoulder, and she leans into me, and I focus on the warmth hugging to me, and that's what gets me through the rest of the day.

We don't see anyone at all, none of my fellow Careers, and none of the other Tributes. I thought Katniss was right, and that they were corralling us together to force a fight. I wonder if the fire did more than enough to interest the people of Panem?

I hope so because Katniss is dead on her feet, and if I'm honest so am I. I'm not used to such emotional stress, not since I watched my mother murdered.

Its two hours later, and I've managed to get Katniss to eat a piece of bread and a slice of cheese. I didn't think she was ready for something as heavy as a rabbit or even fish. I made her chug some water as she had thrown up twice now.

We were hidden up high in a clump of trees, and we are as concealed as we we're going to get. We lost one sleeping bag, but I still have the spare that I picked up. I did my best to take care of Katniss as she rests with her back against my chest. I use my jacket as a blanket underneath me, and wrapped Katniss with the sleeping bag, and once she was concealed, all I could do was hold onto her as she sobbed silently into the ever growing night. I used my weight to keep the cameras from spying on her weakest and most vulnerable moments.

Its the only source of real comfort I can offer her because I'm way out of my league. I try to imagine her as Alana. She was the only one of my sisters who saw my mother's death up close. In fact, she was closer to my mother than I was, and she sometimes has nightmares about the blood splattering on the pretty pink dress that our father had bought her only a week earlier. I do what I do with Alana, and rub circles into Katniss' back, and allow her to claw at me when she can't stand herself any longer.

I didn't sleep a wink, I stay awake to watch the helpless figure shake and shiver, and go in and out of fits of sleep. I know without having to inquire that nightmares have already invaded her. I don't think they are going to go away any time soon.

She sucked in a breath when the sky lit up with the anthem. I do my best to try and shield her from looking, but she can't help but look at the faces of those that perished in the fire. I'm surprised to see the Career Tribute from 4, Risa in the sky. So, that's why the Careers didn't come, they were caught up in the blaze to. We hadn't heard any other cannons due to the sound of fire storm. Next was a boy from district 8, and then Peeta Mellark. It was a faded black and white, his side was facing toward them, and his head was tilted upwards as if looking on just waiting for something.

It hung in the sky for way too long to be normal, and Katniss was in near hysterics once again. I grabbed a hold of her, and held her close, rubbing her back as she broke down even more. There is nothing I can do, I feel useless as if I have no power to change or do anything for her.

For two days we remained close to our tree. Its true we should be moving on, but Katniss seems to have fallen into a listless daze. She had to speak aloud by telling herself what to do, and I had to force her to eat and drink.

And on the third day, its like she suddenly awoke up. Her eyes were less puffy, and she had a look on her face of clear understanding as if she was working through something.

It was morning, or at least I think it was morning. There had been another cannon shot last night, and a boy from district 3 had died, and since the audience must be happy, Katniss and I were left largely enough alone.

She was lying against my chest, straddled around me like that second night with her, but this time there's nothing embarrassing. I'm just holding her, not saying anything as I nibble on a piece of cheese. She raises her head and looks at me. I arch an eyebrow, and then I feel my heart flutter because she smiles at me.

Its sad, but its a smile. A real one. "Thank you, Cato," she says. Its the first time she's used her voice for something other than basic commands for herself.

I say nothing at first as I pop the last bit of cheese in my mouth, and I daringly cup her cheeks with my hands. "You feel better?"

She nods. "I know it was stupid to be like this for days – I just -"

"Don't," I command shaking my head. "Don't explain it to me. I understand. You should eat something more than cheese and bread this morning, get your energy fully back so we can get out of here before the Gamemakers decide to try something new."

Katniss snorted. "Right, true. I haven't checked my traps, I don't know if there still any good or not. I think the fire destroyed them."

"I set some while you were alone last night." The last few days I tried to give her a couple hours of privacy. "My trapping leaves a lot to be desired."

"That is true," she says boldly, and snort. Well, she has her spirit back. That's all I can ask for. "Well, we can go fishing. I need a good wash," she said sniffing her jacket and making a face. "How did you not throw up?"

I shrug. "I smell to, probably worse as I'm a guy." I show this by sniffing my underarm, and she makes a face.

"_Yuck_!" She playfully slaps me away, and I chuckle, happy to see such a reaction from her.

We were all prepared to jump out of our tree when a parachute came fluttering down from the trees. A silver container with the number twelve on it. "For you," I say getting her attention.

As she takes it in her hand, she almost drops it as she pulls the top off. Instantly, the smell of hot fresh baked bread hits my nose.

"_Oh..._" she breaths taking out a napkin full of hot buns with cheese melted on top. "Thank you, District 12, and the Mellark family." She halves the buns with me, and turns away. I can tell she's still in pain, but she pushes on with her jawline locked.

She's strong, oh so strong, I think as we head toward the bubbling stream. Its loud, and its calming. No longer are we running into as we fear for our lives. That was likely the closest I had ever been to death before, and I wasn't going to die like that.

No way. I go down fighting, and I won't go down with fire. Not like that.

We find a good grouping of bushes and trees to keep our concealment. She fishes around until she comes upon some plant, aloe she tells me, and plucks a handful of leaves from it. Once again, I'm impressed with her ability to adapt. I'm still so engrossed with my cheese bun that I haven't noticed something that my mind normally would have locked on in an instant.

Katniss is stripping out of her clothes.

I'm frozen where I stand, and I can't stop staring as she begins to peel off her filthy tan pants. I'm so far passed the perverted watching stage as she dunks them into the water, and takes to untying her hair causing it to fall around her shoulders in crimped curls.

It doesn't help the sun bouncing off her skin and hair when she submerges herself into the water.

I'm damned if I do, and damned if I don't. All the tension I've felt over the week is now hitting me full on, and I quickly sit down on the bank of the stream. I can't move because if I do, its going to be obvious as to what is wrong with me.

She uses a few of the aloe leaves she collected to try and make her clothes smell a little better, and then wrings them out before dunking herself under the water. When she comes up, she is entirely soaked and glistening from the beaming rays of sun. I try to look away, but my eyes are drawn back to her.

And then, she looks at me with those stormy gray eyes. "Getting in?"

"Someone has to watch out for you," I tease with a cocky smirk.

To my surprise, she isn't blushing. What does that mean, I wonder? She gives me an eyeroll. "I wish I had soap," she says shaking the blood and smoke from her clothes and hanging them out on a rock to dry. "How's the water situation?"

"Full." I try to be modest in my gazes, but its hard, and she's making _me_ hard. I want to join her, but I can imagine Clove and the others finding us half naked in a stream, and without our weapons. That wouldn't do at all.

"You look like you want to join me."

"... I'd be a fool not to want to," I find myself saying, and now she's blushing. "But, I don't want either of us to be caught unaware. I'm sure _they_ are looking for one or both of us." I didn't have to explain who they were.

"Let them come," says Katniss sharply.

I'm trying to figure out what she's thinking, but as usual I come up blank. "I don't trust myself," I finally respond after much skirting around. I don't want the cameras to get an eyefull because those bastards don't deserve it. I wouldn't trust myself not to take her and kiss her, if she'd let me.

"I trust you," she tells me, and of all the phrases I could have heard, that is the one that means the most.

She trusts me. She fully trusts me to be unclothed and vulnerable in my presence, and I've come to realize that I haven't just fallen for her as a guy attracted to a pretty young girl who is sweet.

I've fallen completely and madly in love with her.


End file.
